My almost four year old has begun committing Random Acts of Flatulence (RAF.) I blame his father. One night, for some ungodly reason unbeknownst to me, my husband thought it would be funny to give a warning, "Wait...wait..." and then aim his dairy air at our son and let one rip. ( Don't judge. You know you do it too. Maybe...) Of course, at home, in the confines of our bedroom, this was hilarious. Now, my son has taken to doing it to everyone. When I am sitting on the couch reading, he runs up and shouts, "Wait...wait..." You know what happens next. Sometimes it's loud. Sometimes is a SBD (silent but deadly) one, and one time he shocked even himself with the smell. He covered his nose and yelled, "EEEWWWW! That stinks!" as he ran from the room.
Now, at bedtime, when I am laying next to him reading him a Bible story, he interrupts, "Wait...wait..." There it is again. And then he laughs hysterically. I, on the other hand, am not laughing anymore.
My favorite is at the dinner table. Yes. I said the dinner table. The best part is that now my daughter has started mimicking this wretched behavior as well. Of course, I (the classy and refined lady that I am) would NEVER participate in such shenanigans.... Tonight, as we all were spending some time together, it sounded like a chorus of un-tuned tubas was being choked to death in my living room. My daughter observed for a few moments, and waited for silence. Then, she scrunched up her face, let out a little grunt, and....you know what followed. Yup, a RAF (Random Act of Flatulence.) We all laughed until our stomachs hurt. I'm pretty sure I cried.
Still, this was getting out of hand. My husband thought it necessary to put some parameters in place:
1. RAF occur only AT HOME.
2. We DEFINITELY do not commit RAF to strangers.
3. Mommy does not like to be RAF-ED. EVER.
4. We do NOT RAF at the dinner table.
My son is addicted to RAF-ing.
What started out as a simple father to son humorous moment, has now turned into a full blown tutorial.
Now, you can be appalled at our family flatulence. You can pretend you have never let one rip in the grocery store or at the gym and then sneaked away leaving a poor passerby to fend for themselves, or worse, take the blame. You can keep telling yourself how awful we are. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you'll keep reading, because you want to know what I am getting at. There is a reason I'm telling you this.
RAFS are hard to ignore. However, I am reminded of the other behaviors our children have picked up from us as they watch us go about the ins and outs of everyday life. Some of the habits are smelly. Some are unattractive. Some are down right embarrassing, and we are to blame. I see them get frustrated, yell, and lose their patience; what I really see is me.
I watch them console each other when one is hurt, defend each other when they're playing with other kids; I see them sharing their toys, teaching one another new things, and laughing together. I see me.
Inevitably, our kids will inherit our smelly, nasty, embarrassing, habits; but they will also inherit the graceful, loving, kind habits we exhibit too. The Apostle Paul urged the Corinthians, "Imitate me as I imitate Christ." Can we say the same of our actions? Your children will imitate you. I know that God's grace is powerful enough to overcome my faults and make my children into Godly people who worship Him with their whole hearts, but at the end of my days, I want to have lived in such a way that they can look back and say, "That was my mom, and I want to be like her because she was a woman who imitated Christ....And she never RAF-ed."
Now, at bedtime, when I am laying next to him reading him a Bible story, he interrupts, "Wait...wait..." There it is again. And then he laughs hysterically. I, on the other hand, am not laughing anymore.
My favorite is at the dinner table. Yes. I said the dinner table. The best part is that now my daughter has started mimicking this wretched behavior as well. Of course, I (the classy and refined lady that I am) would NEVER participate in such shenanigans.... Tonight, as we all were spending some time together, it sounded like a chorus of un-tuned tubas was being choked to death in my living room. My daughter observed for a few moments, and waited for silence. Then, she scrunched up her face, let out a little grunt, and....you know what followed. Yup, a RAF (Random Act of Flatulence.) We all laughed until our stomachs hurt. I'm pretty sure I cried.
Still, this was getting out of hand. My husband thought it necessary to put some parameters in place:
1. RAF occur only AT HOME.
2. We DEFINITELY do not commit RAF to strangers.
3. Mommy does not like to be RAF-ED. EVER.
4. We do NOT RAF at the dinner table.
My son is addicted to RAF-ing.
What started out as a simple father to son humorous moment, has now turned into a full blown tutorial.
Now, you can be appalled at our family flatulence. You can pretend you have never let one rip in the grocery store or at the gym and then sneaked away leaving a poor passerby to fend for themselves, or worse, take the blame. You can keep telling yourself how awful we are. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you'll keep reading, because you want to know what I am getting at. There is a reason I'm telling you this.
RAFS are hard to ignore. However, I am reminded of the other behaviors our children have picked up from us as they watch us go about the ins and outs of everyday life. Some of the habits are smelly. Some are unattractive. Some are down right embarrassing, and we are to blame. I see them get frustrated, yell, and lose their patience; what I really see is me.
I watch them console each other when one is hurt, defend each other when they're playing with other kids; I see them sharing their toys, teaching one another new things, and laughing together. I see me.
Inevitably, our kids will inherit our smelly, nasty, embarrassing, habits; but they will also inherit the graceful, loving, kind habits we exhibit too. The Apostle Paul urged the Corinthians, "Imitate me as I imitate Christ." Can we say the same of our actions? Your children will imitate you. I know that God's grace is powerful enough to overcome my faults and make my children into Godly people who worship Him with their whole hearts, but at the end of my days, I want to have lived in such a way that they can look back and say, "That was my mom, and I want to be like her because she was a woman who imitated Christ....And she never RAF-ed."