So in the morning the boys wake up and climb into our bed of a quick cuddle before starting the day. 

This morning Daddy got out of bed and was doing his business in the bathroom when he farted, rather loudly.

My youngest giggled, looked up at me and said, "That was Daddy, not ME!"

The boys discovered that the doormen keep a fly swatter.  How did they tell me?

"Mommy, the doormans have a fly wacker!  Can we get one too!"

Lots of confessions tonight.  But the biggie - I love to cook, and I LOVE when people eat well, eat a lot, and basically just eat what I cook!

Confession #2 - Tonight I burned myself making shrimp chips.  The oil was too hot from making pastillios.

So confession #3 - I'm trying to keep culture alive in our lives.  Many cultures.  My eldest child is blond-haired, blue-eyed, but still 1/4th Puerto Rican, because I am half!  He won't totally understand what being Puerto Rican means to me, because, I look the role, and had a Puerto Rican mother, who was raised deep in Puerto Rican culture.  He is being raise me.  I am a shallow imitation, a second hand cultural education.  But, I am a good cook.

My youngest is Chinese.  He was born in China, from Chinese biological-parents. But he won't be Chinese in the sense of understanding the culture ( at least until he's an adult and seeks it out).  Why, because I'm raising him, not his Chinese parents. And I do not underestimate my understanding of Chinese culture - I'm a rookie.  But again, I'm not a bad cook.

So yes, two weeks ago we went to see the dragon boat races in Queens (like how is that authentic?). Last weekend they were in the country side and I took them to a cattle auction (totally authentic for our middle-America roots, but lead to some tough conversations about where hamburger comes from).  And as the boys watch Spider-Man tonight, they are eating pastillios and shrimp chips. Guess who prefers what: hate to suggest genetics is playing a hand here.

There is a cultural education in there somewhere. Kind of explains all the Fierce Fun Toys' stories. Doesn't give me a clue as to how my boys will feel about their cultural identies when they are older. But they will know something about food.

I'm a big fan of taking the action you can, to help others.  Maybe it will snowball enough to be the bigger result for which we all hope.  Today a stranger, someone I don't even know took a small action to help me and it was so kind!

I'm having a tough day.  It is hot, humid and miserable, for like the 10th day in a row.  My hubby is crabby because he is out of underwear, and I went to do the laundry after a choice exchange of words.  

When I went down to get the wet stuff and move it to the dryer, someone already had.  How cool is that.  They actually put money in and helped me out. They didn't know me.  They didn't know I'm suffering a bit today and feeling blue.  They made me smile and they weren't even there!

So as I opened one dryer that had another 15 minutes left, I touched my laundry and it was dry, so I took it out, I went to the washers that had stopped, grabbed a load (of course sorted out the stretchy gym stuff that I put on a bin beside the dryer), and threw the rest in. 

Hope they don't mind. Hope they smile.  Who knows, maybe it will become a habit.

There is an interesting dichotomy to being the president of a company that sells a farting toy and also being a mom trying to teach two young boys manners.  My husband laughs every time I tell I complain about his gas and then points out, "well, that's FUNNY coming from YOU!"  Like my work/mission is supposed to justify his blasty attitude?!!

But on to the boys... tonight the Big Boy jumps up to his seat at the dinner table and the action pushes out a fart.  He was clearly surprised.  I seized the  moment to tease him a bit, "Hey, no pharting at the dinner table!"  To which my husband snorted and the Big Boy said, "Mom, I can't hold it in!"

At least Norman says "Oops" & "Sorry".