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Lemon Slice
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Postby AsleepInYorkshire » July 8th, 2019, 11:08 pm

I don't know about you but if, like me, you are fortunate enough to have a child you may, like me, have found that it's you that has to do as much, if not more learning.

My daughter had a little bit of colic when she was born. Mum wore a rut in the carpet trying to help. In my infinite wisdom I worked out that what she needed to do was pass wind (no not her Mum - please keep up with my poor story telling). So as a child I taught my daughter to say pardon me when she farted. Often when she said "pardon me" I would say "trumpybum said pardon and has good manners".

And with time she would say "Trumpybum - pardon me".

From about the age of 10 "Trumpybum" took great pleasure in having farting contests with her friends. I didn't mind that too much. Often, though, such contests were not restricted to the privacy of her bedroom. Nope. They would carry on regardless of who was present. 8-)

I tolerated such behaviour in the hope it would pass (excuse the terrible pun).

I can say the behaviour has gone. She's 12 now and clearly understands that farting in front of friends and strangers isn't funny anymore. She hasn't remained silent in front of Mum and Dad :roll:

But ... she does insist I share the story of the greatest Trumpybum ever to have walked this planet with her friends. My Dad was an avid keeper of budgies and parakeets in the late 70's. One day he asked me and my sister if we would like to accompany him to buy a new budgie. Yes please. If I recall correctly I was about 15 and my sister two years younger.

We drove to a local village primary school. There we met the caretaker who took us to see his aviary. He and Dad chatted. We stood behind Dad. Now for reasons that still escape me to this day my Dad let out the most incredibly tuned fart. I mean it was orchestral. Perfectly pitched with incredible resonance. It sang.

Dad remained calm. Perfectly so. He simply said "excuse me" and carried on talking. However, behind him were two hysterical teenagers who just could not stop giggling. We were dispatched back to the car and waited in giggled silence for his return. He wasn't happy with us :roll:

Dad passed away in 1990 well before his grand-daughter was born in 2007. I suspect she may have inherited some of his more flatulent genes.


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