Posts Tagged ‘poot’

Nariah and I are both lactose intolerant and have a history of gas wars with each other. Just a lil preface, lol.
So I’ve just picked up Nariah from school and we were on our way to swimming class.

Daddy… Mommy says I can’t crack my knuckles anymore. She says its bad. Sigh
Well… I did ask the doctor about cracking knuckles and necks and whatnot. He explained to me that you have these sacs in between your bones where the joints are, and when you ‘crack’ your knuckles, you’re essentially bursting those sacs which releases gas. And that gas release is the sound you hear. Kinda like bubble wrap we like to pop together? He said I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Ooooooh, cool!

A few moments of silence…

Excuse me daddy, I just released some gas!
Oh no! Gotta roll down the windows! Let it out!!! GET IT OUT!!! Hold your breath!” as I start rolling down the window letting in the cold fall air.

Daddy…. No. I meant my knuckle gas….



Wow, really? 100? Never imagined when I started this blog that I would ever get a hundred posts about things Nariah has said.  Very cool milestone! Here’s to many more! Also coincidentally happening with this post is Nariah’s first official post on her own blog, a critique of Texas Roadhouse (the setting for this blog post actually) over at The Littlest Palate. So go ahead and subscribe to her blog for her perspective on life from a little foodie’s standpoint. The email subscriptions are managed separately from this one for some reason. And now… on to #100 🙂

We’re out in the mountains of Virginia for a wedding and we have a few hours to kill before heading to it. Nariah wants to swim in the pool, but we tell her we have to eat first, and if we have time, we’ll swim before heading out to the wedding. Since there isn’t a Texas Roadhouse “near” us, we almost have to go to one whenever we travel and see one. Their bread with the cinnamon butter…… OMG…… oops, sorry, I digress…

We end up telling the waitress that my birthday is in two days and I made a point to tell them if they bring cake and ice cream, don’t bring chocolate due to my allergy. “Oh… we don’t do that… I don’t know why tho, but I know we don’t give away free dessert. At my other job, they always give out some dessert or something for birthdays, its very cool… But yeah… sorry“.

As she leaves, I start to think what I can do for dessert since the dessert menu for some reason looked bleak today. “Ooooooh, I think I want to go back to Cookout and get that Cheerwine Float, now that would be awesome!
Ummmm No daddy…
No? What you mean Nariah?
No you can’t have that. If you get that, you’re gonna poot in the pool and I’m not having that!

She got me. No comment….

Part 1:

It was a dark and stormy night…
Ok, so it really wasn’t, but it was a windy freezing weird kinda snowy day. Just perfect for a winter pool party in a 90 degree indoor pool for Nariah’s birthday. After being a zombie water monster to 25 kids and winding down at home going through the presents, I was exhausted.
I look to Nariah as she gleefully goes through the gifts.
Baby… after today, we may not have another party till you’re 10-15 years old or something…
Daddy…“, Nariah pauses, looks up at me from her gift, rolls her eyes, shakes her head and walks over to get another gift, “You’re such a cutie sometimes“.
Toya proceeds to bust out laughing.  Hmph.

Part 2:

We’re sitting at the table eating dinner. Nariah doesn’t get to drink soda close to bedtime and I happened to have a Pepsi at the table with my dinner as leftover drinks from the birthday party today.  So… I accidently pooted. Nariah looks at me with the “ewwww” face. Then she slyly reaches across the table and grabs my soda. As she pulls it back to her, I give her the “And what do you think you’re doing?” look.
This child of ours said to me…
I’m thinking that if I take a couple of sips of this soda, it will probably make the smell of your poot go away“.

Now you know I couldn’t deny her the soda after that comeback. Man I am in trouble, this girl is good.