The Fart That Binds

All you mothers out there, listen up.

I've been at this mothering jig a long time. And let me tell you, there is nothing more effective a mother can do to bond with boys than fart.

First of all, I want you to know I leaned this by accident. It must have been ten years ago that I ventured into my son's room to ask him something simple like why weren't there any towel racks in the bathroom when I distinctly remembered seeing some hanging on the walls the night before.

I knocked on the door and went in. The little darling, who is now 21, greeted me with sullen impatience. He was battling the Foot Clan. My unwelcome intrusion had shifted the balance of power--Splinter was going down. Hard.

As I stepped into his room, I passed a wee bit of gas. Yes, I farted in my baby boy's room. I, of course, excused myself. My son protested that it was okay, I didn't need to apologize. The sulleness disappeared. He seemed soften. He smiled at me. We became friends and I owe it all to a little bit of wind.