Regardless of what he thinks, there IS a difference.

We're Baaaaa-aaack!

Back from our fantastically glorious week-long trip to the Outer Banks. (Sigh......) The perfect weather, the scrumptious seafood, the fabulous laziness that comes about from reading for hours in a chair while you dangle your toes in the surf and your children scramble up and down the beach....... it's all so hard to peel yourself away from. But alas, all good things must come to an end eventually, right?

So here we are, back in Charlotte (Ha! I just typed "Charloote" and it struck me as very funny. Charloote. Ha ha ha......) As I was saying, here we are back in Charlotte, ready to kick off another school year. We came home to a clean house -- thank you very much -- and were able to get most of our necessities done on Saturday; Lawn mowing, grocery shopping, battling with all the other half-assed-slacker-parents scrambling to get their hands on the last of the school supplies.

And seeing that we were fresh off of vacation, Mike suggested a Sunday afternoon trip to Carowinds. You know, sort of a last-hurrah before school officially starts. So we went. I was expecting crazy crowds, but amazingly enough it was pretty reasonable. We were able to walk right onto lots of rides, and any wait we had was relatively short. So even though we hadn't planned to, we closed down the park. And as our evening was coming to an end, we were trying to decide which rides to ride as the last official rides of the summer. Of course, the boys were arguing about who wanted to ride what, what order we should ride them in, and which way we should go. Gibson was vying for the action-adventure theatre (which I will admit is pretty cool. You get to watch a spongebob movie in huge red 3-D glasses while the seats move around underneath you. It really is like being in a pineapple under the sea.) and Landis was rallying hard for Boot's Balloon Race. I personally don't mind Boot's Balloons, but Mike......... Well, let's just say he calls it "Barf's Balloons". Apparently he can't go around and around in flying circles anymore. And I think he's officially apologized to my parents for making fun of them when they wouldn't ride the Merry-Go-Round. But me? I can take it. In fact, I like it. So I stepped in with a brilliant plan -- I am, after all, THE MOTHER. "How about this?" I proposed. "What if daddy goes to the action-adventure theatre with Gibson, and mommy goes on Boot's Balloons with Landis? Then..." I said, addressing Mike and Gibson, "when your movie is over you can come and meet us in kiddie-land." Everyone agreed that I was indeed brilliant, and before they walked away Mike gave me a look of gratitude that said "You are the best thing since sliced bread, and I promise you a 30 minute foot rub this week, since you have selflessly saved me from an inevitable meeting with the bushes". OK, actually he just turned and left with Gibson, but I know that's what he meant and I intend to collect.

So, Landis and I got over to Boot's Balloon Race, and lo' and behold, there was almost NO LINE! And you know what this means, don't you? It not only means that we got on the ride immediately, it also means that we rode it MULTIPLE TIMES! As soon as the little buckets would come back down to earth from their dizzying flight, Landis would exclaim "LET'S DO IT AGAIN!!!" and we'd run around and get back on. The funny thing was, Boot's Balloon Ride had a funny smell about it. One I couldn't quite put my finger on. Though after we'd been slung around a few times, I decided that it smelled a little bit like a sewer. Like, perhaps the building next door was a bathroom that had seen a little too much use that day.

"Gross." I thought. "I wonder if that bathroom always gives off such a funky smell..? How can the people working here all day stand it?"

And then Mike and Gib showed up, and since Mike had to wait in a shop next door so he didn't even have to watch(*) the balloons go 'round and 'round, we thought it best if we headed over to our very last ride of the evening. It was a huge swingy-platform-thingy, and the four of us sat side by side in our own little row. We buckled in and away we went. It swung us up and down, and back and forth, and then up and over and up and over. It was fun. And then it stopped. And then I smelled that funky sewer smell again.

"That's weird...." I thought. "It smells a little bit like a sewer over here too..... It's almost like that smell is.... following..... me......around......."

And then I understood. That smell was following me around. In the form of my youngest child. I sniffed the air as I looked down into the smiling crystal clear blue eyes of Señor-Stinky-Sewer-Pants sitting directly to my left.

My child who gambles and loses.

God love him.

Please, please tell me that one day he'll be able to tell the difference between a fart and a turd.

(* Wimp, wimp, wimpy, wimpy, wimp)