Flarp

Have you ever had an idea that early on seems so good, so innocent, so "this will make me a great mom"? I had one of those ideas. A few months ago, my darling, sweet, child started talking about farting playdough (yes, I know, how very unlady-like). I'm not sure where the first tidbits of information came from but she had become extremely interested in the prospect. So, I thought she needed some (a.k.a "Flarp) - it seemed harmless. So, I shared this with my mom and sister (I have to tell you they thought it was extremely amusing that I was considering giving my child farting playdough). Given it was Easter time, we passed along this idea to the Easter bunny (sounds like a fun Easter basket happie, right?). So, Easter morning not only did sweet Carly get some farting playdough but Daddy and Uncle Rocky got their own :) There was lots of fun stuffed into that Easter basket - books, flip flops, pool toys, swim suit cover up, bath stuff, art stuff, candy. But, by far the Flarp got the biggest response. I can not remember seeing Carly so hysterical. She thought Flarp was the funniest thing ever. Check out those pictures. You can actually feel her laughter. So, what is the problem you ask? Because it sounds exactly like what I was shooting for. And yes, I briefly was excited with her pure delight. That is until, I had heard about as many farts and as much bathroom humor as any mom can handle (I know, I should have known better!) Even Dad, who has a much higher tolerance for said humor had enough. Sadly, Flarp was even banned from the family rooms (allowed only in her room and outside). Thank goodness she's 7, her amusement has wained and I only occasionally hear sounds of Flarp coming from her room.