Today was my last day joining Arleigh’s class for a little reading time. It’s the only way I’ve volunteered at the school since we’ve been there. I was fresh out of really funny books that would take up my 10 minutes. I asked on Facebook. My friends answered.
I went to Barnes & Noble with a list of books. The crappy Barnes & Noble in our area. The one where no one helps you. If you ask for a Little House on The Prairie book, they roll their eyes and point. It does not get the love and care and attention that I’m used to here in the south. The only book I could find on my huge list was this Walter the Farting Dog Book.
Let me tell you, this book kills me. I am the girl who wanted to be able to compete with the boys, burping the ABCs and all. I also understand the need to be a sweet innocent southern docile lady. I think there is a balance, but right now it’s very difficult to teach my girls appropriateness, especially when who the heck knows what goes right now? I could go a whole blog on the lengths my mother went to making sure we knew that not one of her bodily functions involved gas. For her sake, I won’t go there yet.
Needless to say it killed me to purchase a book about farts but I knew it would make Arleigh happy so I went for it. Then we read it at home. Bria thought it was the funniest thing ever since her sisters erupted in laughter every time I read the word fart. I probably read it at least twice on every page so you see where this is going.
Today, the very sweet genteel secretary that we go to church with was checking us in at the school. The office was clearly having a bad day. It’s raining. There were sick kids. Today is the day most parents go in for lunch. There I am to check in, Bria in the stroller. She’s rushing, trying to print my sticker, buzz someone in and answer the phone. She made the mistake of acknowledging Bria in the middle of that and my sweet, raised to be a docile, southern, genteel lady of a two year old daughter yells, “We brought the Faaaaaarrrrrrrttttted book!”
Oh good gravy I’ve never been so happy that most people still don’t understand her, especially when she yells. I just smiled and said “She brought her Walter book.” Everyone seemed to accept that and I ran down the hall to the classroom. Just to let you know, the 3rd graders loved it as much as the two-year old.