My charming son Griffith woke up about 6 this morning and so he came in to bed with us to snuggle and (we hoped) go back to sleep. Which he did. When he finally woke up about an hour later he was deliciously warm and snuggly and in a wonderful mood. Which improved immeasurably when he passed gas. Right on me. He giggled, strained, did it again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Four times. Until he, well, ran out of gas.... (sorry -- that was too easy). What is it about boys and farts? Why do they think it is so funny?