Several times during Sam's visit this week
, Sam would let one rip. Sometimes they were big ones (big
!), sometimes they were small but quite foul. Invariably, he would say nothing until called on it, and then only a giggled "'scuse me!" would be the answer.
I really can't stand when people fart around me. It drives me nuts. My fart-aversion probably comes from the infinite number times I was on the receiving end of my older brother's farts, though I'm sure I gave as sure as I got.
This is one time when asking for forgiveness after-the-fact ("Oops! Excuse me.") is definitely worse than asking permission before-hand.
So, I gave Sam one of the big
house rules in my house. He has been learning that different houses have different rules: even though he can have only one juice box a day at Uma's house, he can have three really big
glasses of (tragically caffeinated) root beer at Auntie Kitt's house! What a deal! We like Auntie Kitt!
And that rule is, "If you need to fart, go outside." If you fart outside, Sam learned, the smell dissipates into the outside environment and Auntie Kitt doesn't get mad. The best part is, of course, that if no one's around, you don't even have to say, "Excuse me!"
I'm not sure if the lesson stuck, but at least he was farting more outside than in when I last noticed the small fart.