I finally felt stable enough to tinker with Procreate Dreams//por fin me sentí lo suficientemente estable como para jugar con Procreate Dreams//Je me sentais enfin assez stable pour jouer avec Procreate Dreams
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I finally felt stable enough to tinker with Procreate Dreams//por fin me sentí lo suficientemente estable como para jugar con Procreate Dreams//Je me sentais enfin assez stable pour jouer avec Procreate Dreams
Yesterday Boo taught me how to armpit fart. Today GG taught me how to braid my shoelaces. I’m a blessed Mommy for sure. #armpitfarts #braidedlaces #kidsteachingmom #bepresent https://www.instagram.com/p/Bn82v-Uh6Kj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=iq32u3w9401y
#prouddad #armpitfarts
Good Song #walle #armpitfarts #song #goodsong #songs #singalong
This is what #iggyazalea music sounds like #armpitfarts
#fahrtgrl's Fifth-Grade Trauma
I can't imagine anything more traumatic happening to me in fifth-grade than farting. Loudly. In front of all my classmates. During silent reading time. We were sitting at our desks that were arranged into table groups with five kids to a table. I sat next to a chubby guy named Carlos. Thank goodness this was fifth grade and boys were very much into making fart noises, usually with their armpits, sometimes with their legs. And so, as I sat in my classroom that day, stifling a loud one, the boys in the classroom giggled and farted occasionally with their armpits, snorting at the noise.
And then, I farted.
It was loud and clear. There was no mistaking it. I tried to pretend like nothing had happened, like I had not just ripped one in front of thirty people. I know my face was beet-red. I know people suspected it was me. But thankfully, the fart was not deadly and Carlos sat next to me, farting with his armpit.