Tonight, after reading a hefty collection of books both for academic and leisure purposes, The General was trying his best to reign the girls back in with his "deep, smooth baritone" voice (words in quotations his, I assure you). They were a little silly thanks to their dad's dramatic readings from the Froggy series, and knowing bedtime was next on the agenda he was doing his best to settle them down in preparation for an easy slumber.
Things were going well for about, oh I don't know, a minute until Shortcake decided that moment was the perfect opportunity to unleash a noisy, foul fart. Farts are the single most hilarious thing in the history of the world right now in our house, so naturally giggling resumed in full force - from all four of us this time - and all attempts at getting engines from high to low were thrown out the window.
This story is funny in and of itself, but it was Punkin's commentary that simultaneously made the moment that much more memorable and also struck fear right to the gut:
"I'm going to write about dis in my jou-nal tomowoah. 'My sistuh tooted and it was smelly and we all laughed'".
Future blogger, people. I'm calling it right now.