Feb 122002
I was driving The Boy to daycare this morning and had to unleash an SBD halfway there. A minute or so after doing it, I hear from the back of the car, “You stinky, daddy. It stinks.” I look back there and he’s holding his nose. At first, I’m impressed that he deduced it was me, then I’m annoyed that he assumes it was me. I tell him that I’ll roll down the window to get rid of the smell. I cracked it about 1/4 of the way down. The next thing I hear from the back, “Open it more.”
Doh. It’s bad enough that I have to deal with The Wife’s complaints, now I’m getting critiqued by a person who only recently stopped shitting his own pants.