Raising boys, part 1

My boys are normal American boys–like to play rough, smart, smart-ass attitudes, love their mom and sister to death (she can guilt them into anything), love their home, love sports, computers, EATING. But one thing about boys–they have terrifying gas. My boys can clear out a room and make eyes bleed with what I call their barn door gas. When it rips, sounds like an old barn door creeping open and then boom! Your nose burns and if you don’t escape the room quickly, the stench absorbs into the fabric of your clothing. No one wants to smell like another person’s fart. This leads to their nickname….The Plugger Brothers. Why? They can plug the strongest of toilets and I have become the plunger expert. But the worst part about it–they never let on when they plug the toilet until my daughter goes into one of the baths and shrieks, “which one of you idiots did this? Why can’t I go pee on one clean toilet in this house?” Poor girl. She was born between her brothers, is the sweetest little gal in the world, but is growing up tough.