Perhaps the two Barium drinks I had earlier in the day were the reason for my spell.
Me: (walking/passing gas)
Son: (walking) What’s wrong with you! Do you think that is okay? You just walk around farting all day like that’s normal, but you’re disgusting and should be disgusted with yourself.
Me: (uncontrollably laughing/walking/tooting)
Son: (walking) And you think it’s funny?? I cannot walk with you anymore; you are so immature!
Daughter: (joins us walking) What’s so funny?
Me: (like a balloon losing air)
Daughter: Ew. No! Stop! Gross! Come on brother!
Hubby: (stops/looks around) What’s that smell? Did a dog shit in here?
Me: (holding it in) Yeah, I wondered that.
Son: She’s the dog!
Hubby: (turns to me) What’s wrong with you?!