Last night we went to Cracker Barrel with a group from church. Immediately Braeden tells me he has to go potty. I should take this opportunity to add that he'd eaten half a bag of marshmallows before church, courtesy of Peepop, so he was bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute. While I washed his hands, an older lady came into the restroom. She went into a stall and proceeded to let out the longest string of flatulence I've ever heard. Bebo's eyes got huge, and with complete seriousness, said, "Wow. That was a big one!"
What am I going to do with this child?!