Sorry!

Troy passed gas one day, and I told him that doing that was not polite in nice society. If he had to do that, then he should at least say, “Sorry!” Now, he says, “Sorry!” quite often, and I’m not always sure if he’s actually passing gas. If he is, then he passes gas more than anyone I’ve ever known, including my father, which is quite a feat indeed. Today, we were standing in my office, looking out the window and watching the lady across the street clean her flowerbed. I accidentally audibly passed gas; and Troy turned to look at me and smiled. Then, we both said, “Sorry!” simultaneously. It’s one of those father / son bonding moments.

DISCLAIMER: After reading this, my wife insisted that I clarify that my passing wind was a rare and unusual occurrence. I do not audibly pass gas in the company of others, since that would make me uncouth and uncivilized. This is all a complete fabrication, but if it makes her feel better, then so be it.