|It doesn't matter...it won't mask a Minion fart.|
What can I say? We are a household with four males and one female...well, five males and three females if you count the cats and dog, which I think I will because they can be stinky fuckers too.
People with daughters constantly complain that they are in the bathroom all the time, which is probably true, I have friends who have daughters (one is probably going to be my daughter-in-law the way things are going) and I have seen the "feelings" and experienced the "prepping". But...if you are a member of the exclusive club known has The Three Boy Club, you have definitely experienced the...stench.
|Hmm...Ninja Diaper Baby?|
Before I get too far ahead of myself let me tell you about the curse I have inherited from my parents and have passed along to my Minions.
|Just follow this to the crapper.|
Just this evening we had a situation with the Minions and myself. I came home from work and did my routine of changing and then dropping a stink pickle. Now, like most Dads I know, we savor this time in the shitter because it's quiet..for the most part.
|Enter the Minions...|
"I need to poop Dad!"
"So use the little bathroom!"
"I can't, #2 is in there already." (HA, #2 taking a #2...ironic...)
"Well you need to wait, I'm almost done." (Now I am giving play-by-play commentary on my pooping.)
"Hurry up...#3 needs to poot too."
"He's got his own pot to use!"
"He doesn't want to use that one." (Now my two year old is making decisions...great...)
So I pinch it off, wipe, wash my hands (yes...I wash after I go to bathroom) and open the door for #1.
"Dad! You smell! Did you spray in here?"
"Yes I sprayed, besides your turds don't exactly smell like lilacs now do they?"
Now my wife enters the scene with #3.
"Jesus, would it kill you to spray in once in a while?"
"I did spray!"
"No he didn't Mom, it smells baaaaaddddd in here huh?"
"Ewwwwww." (Says #3)
"What do you mean ewwww? Have you smelled your diaper pail lately?" (Now I'm arguing with #3...I'm losing it...)
Now all three of them are staring at me like I just destroyed some priceless work of art, so I leave...knowing full well I didn't spray. I enter the kitchen, where the half bath is located near and #2 comes bounding out of the bathroom with a resounding "Ahhhhhhhh, boy".
"Did you spray in there?"
"It was the cat."
"It doesn't matter who it was, go spray."
We have almost as much spray in our house as we do Bath and Body Works items....