Karma

November 22, 2005

Last night Mista T woke up at 11 p.m. He was inconsolable for some time so Big D went to get him. After several attempts to get him back to sleep, we opted for the bad parenting decision and brought him downstairs to where we were flipping through channels.

The little man squirmed and fussed, crying out every so often as we desperately tried to find the off switch. He sprawled out on Big D or myself, letting us place warm hands on his belly (we NEVER rule out gas with this kid), but within a few minutes he was screaming again, flopping around and unable to get comfortable.

After going back and forth between Big D and I, Mista T finally sat up, looked at me, and said, “Gooble hat buttie vaf!”

Trying not to laugh at his little attempt at language (it is so cute I wish I could bottle it and drink it in my coffee - or with strong strong liquor), I did what every good mother would do and said, “I had one too but the wheels fell off!”

He smiled. Then he crawled into Big D’s lap and let out a fart so big, the house shook.

Big D looked at me and we both giggled like 4 year olds. “How did you do that?” he asked me.

“Karma at it’s best Daddy-O! This is for all the times you gave me a dutch oven!”

Mista T slept through the rest of the night.

Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 8:31 am