Yesterday a potential new "mommy" for Sugar (our adopted 1 1/2-yr-old dog) came to visit. I thought we were exhibiting a rather appealing image...until my 8-yr-old daugher got home from a sleepover. Apparently, whatever she ate at the sleepver had given her abundant gas. Sitting on the wooden piano bench in our living room, the sound was difficult to ignore. I apologized for the sound and smell, and we continued our conversation about Sugar. The flatulence continued. But the loss of dignity didn't stop there. I had been painting Charli's room, so I was wearing baggy red paint-stained sweatpants held on by a rubber band at the waist. Charli decided to pull off the rubber band which was one of her ponytail holders. As I bade farewell to Sugar's potential adoptive parent, I held my pants up with one hand and apologized once again for the farting. I can only imagine that this woman is thinking, "I have to save Sugar from this crazy family!" So be it. Amen.