Growing up we were not allowed to say...the "F" word in our house. Still we're not allowed to say it. It was very against Momma's rules and the proverbial hammer came down if you so much as thought of uttering...the "F" word. If I, as an adult, am at my momma's house and I say...the "F" word, she will yell out, "AMBER! That's enough!". Whoops.

I have carried on this rule in my home. Madison will sometimes let it slip but I'm quick to correct her.
"Madison, we don't use that word in this house!" She hangs her head and shuffles on her way.

Oh, you've been reading this thinking I mean "fuck". No. The word I'm referring to is...fart. Of course my child doesn't walk around saying "fuck", and Momma loves that word, it's practically her favorite word. That word is fiiine. Fart on the other hand, that is a bad one. You can get sent to your room for saying that.

We use the word "poot" or "toot". I of course do neither of these things.

Well, I don't. Not in front of anyone at least. I'm from the South and that's how I was raised. I was also raised around heathens that had no manners and would sit on your lap and...ugh, you know. Nasty.

Joe says I do it in my sleep, but that's different of course because, hello, I'm sleeping. People can beat murder charges that they committed while sleeping, surely my gas is forgivable.

Right after my mom and dad were married, he was using the restroom...he left the bathroom door ajar. Things happened.

Momma left and didn't come back for days.

So. Lessons learned, don't say the "F" word in my house and keep your hot boxes to yourself.

Also, close the bathroom door. Noone needs to be a part of your experience.

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I love it when you say things to me that reinforce me positively. So...carry on then, do that thing. Lastly, capital hat!