It was close to bedtime. The boys were wrapping up their bedtime routine with baths, brushing teeth, and worship. Son #1 had to use the restroom one last time before he crawled into bed. While Son #1 took care of business, I rubbed Son #2's eyebrows as he lay in his crib. Son #2 gently drifted off to sleep and I crept on tiptoes out of his room.
I sat on the couch watching a sitcom and waited for my eldest son. From inside the restroom, I heard him try to whisper my name.
"Mom? Mom?" Son #1 cried.
"Whaaat?" I called out from my perch on the couch.
"Mom, come here." Son #1 said.
"Hang on a second." I replied lazily.
I slowly eased myself from the couch and walked to the bathroom door. Son #1 was seated on the toilet when I looked inside.
I asked with a quizzical look on my face. "What do you need?"
Son #1 smirked and announced. "I farted."
"Oh really." I responded.
"Yeah. My biggest fart was like a cannonball while I was pooping." Son #1 stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
I love my boys.