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?!