The Forearm Farts

It's a good thing I'm not a girly-girl...I don't think I could "hang" with my boys if I was.

My recently-turned 7-year-old, Ben, invited two of his best friends from school for a special birthday outting. He picked bowling, arcade games, and Red Robin for dinner*. I'm no 7-year-old, but I have to say, they seemed to have a blast.

Speaking of blasts...care to hazard a guess as to what the car ride home consisted of? Picture five boys (3 of whom are my own, 2 of whom were Ben's guests) all ages 7 and under, seeing who can make the most realistic sound effects by blowing wet raspberries on their forearms.

We all giggled the whole way home. I love my boys. It was awesome.

* His selections may have been slightly influenced by my husband and I. But, really...based on my previous post "Chicks Dig Scars...And Teeth", what was I supposed to do when Ben asked if we could go to House of Bounce for his birthday?!