What I learned today was that you need to be thorough. Daddy spray painted Wyatt's new bed frame in the garage while I was in the living room, two close doors away. That is, two close doors that were slightly opened.
So when Daddy came in to check on me, he smelled what I smelled. And it wasn't the farts I was dropping to cover it up.
Looks like I picked a bad week to stop sniffing pure oxygen.
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