Kind of Gross - Part II

I promise not to make this blog a tribute to Emmy's tooting, but consider this a warning that the topic may present itself from time to time and I find myself coerced to write about it.

Last night in bed (all four of us), watching TV, Lauri wouldn't let Emmy see something or other. Emmy said very calmly and quietly under her breath, "I guess I'll have to force ya..." Turned around towards me, away from Lauri. Yep, that's right. She tooted on her mother. LOL! Couldn't believe it. Lauri scolded her in between the laughing.

Not very lady like at all and hoping this is just a stinky phase, but it's still pretty funny when you're there. :)

Kind of gross...

Emily, Jacob, Lauri, and I are all cuddled up in our bed watching some TV Saturday night. Now, what happened next, around the house we generally refer to as a "toot". Sorry, but I can't use the word "toot" to describe this. THIS was a fart. THIS was the FART of farts. If a fart could be obnoxious and overbearing then I'd attribute these characteristics to it. It was also insanely long and loud. Had a lot of bass. Of course, Lauri yelled at me. Um, wasn't me, though. We usually try not to laugh when this kind of thing happens, but this thing wasn't something you heard every day. We noticed that Emmy was laughing the loudest, though. She just said one thing:

"I guess I'm growing up."

Summer Drive...

So, I'm rolling through Inkster on one of my "scenic" drives home back when I worked for Access Interactive in Wixom. Sometimes, instead of taking 275 all the way down to 94 or Eureka, I'd just hop off on Michigan Ave. and take that to Inkster Rd., Beech Daly, or Telegraph. It was definitely a way to break up the monotony of the hour long drive. Not really the most wholesome area, but that's why it wasn't boring. One day, I saw Inkster undercover cops swarm the outside of a party store just west of Beech Daly on Michigan Ave. It's the one with a giant Adult Videos and Toys sign on the front. LOL! Classy... They lined up the drug dealers on the curb with their hands zip tied behind their backs. It was pretty cool to see that stuff actually. For days leading up to then, I'd see a couple of the guys at various corners, just standing there holding duffel bags in July with coats on. I could see one guy further down the block and another across the street signaling the guy with the bag. Didn't know what he was actually signaling about, but I'm assuming it was in reference to spotting cops or not. Guess their spotters had pink eye that day or something, 'cause they didn't live up to their job and all those a-holes had their faces planted against the curb and and the boots of Inkster's finest on their backs. I don't get to swing by that way very often anymore, but the crime element seems to have dissipated a bit. Did I mentioned they built a HUGE police station within a crackrock throw away? :-)