Never Trust a Fart. ... and Other Lessons Learned at Bathtime

For once this post does not involve me.  The unfortunate series of events happened while I was safely with in the confines of my high quality headphones deeply entranced in a lecture about corporate insider trading and SEC violations.  But I warned Gina she would be the blog post today, so here's how things went down.  I was washing dishes and Gina took the girls up stairs for a bath.  She asked me to follow when I was done and bring the diapers and jammies with me.  I did.  Upon entering the bathroom I took my usual post on the floor by the tub and began playing.  Gina told me she could do it and suggested I go back down stairs and study like I had intended.  As I was walking down the stairs I thought to myself "you know, sometimes it's important to me that I get to do things like bath all by myself - Gina misses so many bath times being gone on weekends and teaching at nights, so she should get to enjoy this."  About 45 minutes later, the horror of what unfolded next was recounted to me.

No more than a minute after I left Arianna stood up and started to pee all over the place.  Gina grabbed her and rushed her to the toilet.  As she sat there Genevieve stood up and started yelling "Porti Mama, Porti!"  Which is Greek for fart.  She would then expel said porti and giggle with delight.  This was continued a few times until her voiced turned timid and she muttered with much less delight "Kaka Mama, Kaka. ...."  Which is the Greek word for a solid porti. ... if you catch my drift.  Gina spun around in terror to see Genevieve standing their with a fist full of her own waste.  She left Arianna sitting on the potty and ran to Genevieve, but before she could reach her Genevieve had dropped the treasure in to the bath water below.  Then, she started to freak out because the floating mass was coming back toward her. ... sort of like the pool scene in Caddyshack - only not a Baby Ruth bar.  Gina noted this was odd because she had no problem holding it in her hand, but floating toward her feet stressed her out beyond belief.  In such a state she began clutching Gina to get out of the tub. ... her hands covered in poop which was now covering Gina.  This whole time I sat blissfully unaware in the room directly below.  Headphones securely on and notes happily being recorded.

Eventually everyone got cleaned up, the bathroom got a much needed scrub down and the story was shared.  The important thing is we learned a valuable lesson today:  never trust a fart.