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February 25, 2005
Can you really fart so hard you can rip your pants?
So many stories to tell, so little time!
So my first story of the blog goes like this; I was at Kindercare (a daycare that i sub for occasionally) working with the older three year olds. This boy named Lincoln comes up to me as says, "Miss Amber, I got a hole in the butt of my pants, it's feeling windy." Not seeing any visible hole i laughed it off and tell Lincoln no, he does not have a hole in his pants. He comes to me later and says, "Miss Amber, i farted so hard that there is a hole in pants." I look again, but for the second time tell Lincoln that he does not have a whole in his pants, and as funny as i thought his comment was, politely asked him not to talk like that at daycare. So we are outside on the playground later and as Lincoln bends over, i see that he has a huge hole along the seem of his pants! Did he actually fart so hard that he ripped his pants? I ask him if he would like to change out of his pants (he has an extra pair kept at daycare) but he says no and goes around the rest of the day with a huge hole in his pants for everyone to see. Oh my...
Next story, so i was at the Bali Satay house (a local joint)last weekend listening to some bands. Jamming along, i was bobbing my head to the music, nothing too scandalous. As sources tell me, this guy comes up to me, looks me up and down, and says in a "hey i'm trying to hit on you tone" "HEY". I was still dancing, and didn't even know he was there so i completely ignore him. He notices that i don't respond and leaves. Sarah Dahlman tells me this guy just hit on me, and points him out. No less than 5 minutes later we see him walk out holding hands with some other girl. And i ask myself, could i have totally just missed Mr.Right?
Last bit of story i want to throw in is that today i went to nanny for the Wigdahls and the two younger girls wanted to dance. I put on their dancing music which just happens to be Gloria Estafan's (sp?) Conga song (... Come on baby come and do that conga... something like that). Finding this fairly amusing, i decide to start dancing with the girls. It is so fun when you can just let go and be crazy with kids sometimes. The funniest thing was that the girls refused to dance to an other song on the CD. Every time we tried to switch it they would say, "NO! Boring!". So needless to say we danced to the conga song about a million and a half times. So picture the scene, Amber and two little girls with their shirts off (they just rip them off when they get hot, hopefully they will grow out of this habit) dancing to Gloria in the living room. I always used to think she said "come on baby to that fungi"...
Posted by Amber Ruppert at February 25, 2005 11:20 PM
Comments
He probably wasn't Mr. Right. Maybe Mr. Close Enough, though.
I'm wondering right now why people let you near their children. ;)
Posted by: Different Dan at February 26, 2005 11:07 AM
"Can you really fart so hard you can rip your pants?" I plan to find out, even if I die trying.
Posted by: Pat at February 26, 2005 05:50 PM
I'm sure that was Mr. Right. You should probably go back to Bali Satay and camp out waiting for him to return. Then you can pick up where you left off and say, "HEY."
If that doesn't work, I say you should just quit work and school and wait by your phone for him to call. That always works!
Posted by: Tony at February 28, 2005 09:46 AM
Nahh, if he gave up so easily, he obviously wasn't worth you. :) By the way, are you coming out this summer?
Posted by: Christine at March 1, 2005 07:30 PM
wow. thanks for making me laugh!
Posted by: Jamie at March 1, 2005 09:07 PM
oh my goodness...how is it i live with you and didn't hear the first story? i had to read it sitting in the psych lab hoping my participants can't hear my muffled giggles. thanks for preserving my dignity...
Posted by: Autumn at March 2, 2005 01:36 PM