<p>I banned coming to the table shirtless for the 3 males that live with me.</p>
<p>I have tried for 20 years to ban the burping/farting. I am unfairly outnumbered 3/1 so apparantly this will never stop as the hilarity it produces is the best free entertainment they can imagine.</p>
<p>This thread has got to be one of the funniest threads ever (if not the funniest). It seems as though my parents haven’t disciplined me at all.</p>
<p>Packmom, I was going to post the exact same thing as you- shirtless at the dinnertable and farting. My kids used to think it was OK to fart as long as you say “safety” and touch a doorknob.<br>
One day my son burped and I said, “what do you say?” and his reply was “safety.”</p>
<p>I don’t know the exact rules of the game- something like this- if you fart, your brother/companion gets to punch you with impunity, unless you touch a doorknob first and say “safety.” </p>
<p>Is this an indigenous tradition to Florida or is it an import?</p>
<p>
Ditto. Except that it only needed to apply to one of my two males (DS). I also banned baseball cap at the dinner table, until it became an integral part of his persona. The kid has a full head of good hair, so I’ll be glad when (and if) this phase ends.</p>
<p>I think burping and farting will be around as long as there are boys/men! Just the other night my nephew was worried that he must be the most immature 36 year old. I ask him had he taken a good look at his 50 year old uncle (my husband?) Then his frown turned to a smile and he said, “Yea, he is pretty cool!” </p>
<p>I use to get angry with the constant burping/farting, but I have since learned to live with it. As my son has slowed down on the entertainment, so has my husband. Just make sure you aren’t in our home after we have gone out for a big meal :-)</p>
<p>doubleplay…the game is here in Phila. Although the rules state “there is no safety” in the kitchen. And the kitchen is two doorknobs…no less :)</p>
<p>I don’t think I’d mind singing at the dinner table too much. Sounds fun. Then again, I was a music major in college. When I was growing up, we weren’t allowed to talk or breathe during dinner when my father was around. When he left on business trips, we’d sing, tell jokes, laugh, etc. Thankfully my mom divorced him when I was 10. Otherwise I’d probably have an eating disorder!</p>
<p>I don’t allow the TV to be on during dinner. Unless it’s the World Series or a very important baseball playoff game, lol.</p>
<p>And no TV on while doing homework either.</p>
<p>Cosmo Kramer “Do you know what do you do at dinner?”</p>
<p>Jerry Seinfeld “No.”</p>
<p>Cosmo Kramer “You talk about your day!”</p>
<p><a href=“http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92jCB0JVidQ[/url]”>www.youtube.com/watch?v=92jCB0JVidQ</a></p>
<p>Love it, UMDAD. Somehow I think Kramer escaped the whole OCD thing. :D</p>
<p>No soccer in the kitchen while I’m cooking.</p>
<p>Ditto for roller blading.</p>
<p>No audible exhale (with a T sound) while dramatically dropping one’s shoulders and rolling one’s eyes in response to a statement or question.</p>
<p>And, not one of my more enlightened rules: for a period of about 6 months when S was 5 years old, no sentence beginning with the word “since.” (“Mom, since blah blah blah, can I blah blah blah.”) He was born negotiating. It was exhausting!</p>
<p>Love the fight over the imaginary panda–and banning the word ‘since’. That’s a classic!</p>
<p>Last week, as teenage S was climbing the stairs headed for his room he emitted a gaseous explosion that could have been heard for blocks. I yelled from the kitchen “I heard that!” S yells back “wasn’t trying to hide it!”<br>
I give up.</p>
<p>Looooooooooooooooooooool</p>
<p>My mother and I have given up on our dad. It’s like he’s in another world, and he lets one rip and doesn’t even notice. I usually don’t say anything, but my mom looks at me, and then we both crack up and roll our eyes <em>men</em></p>
<p>And, not to hijack the thread, but has anyone (of the female persuasion) noticed that we did not have to ban the gaseous outpourings while we were dating or honeymooning? When exactly do we cross the International Date Line where they become a sport/emssion from the creature in another world?</p>
<p>I’d like to get back to the other side of that date line; wouldn’t you, Mallomar?</p>
<p>haha well, i appreciate the fact that i can sit around with no eyeliner or lip gloss with a towel on my head. i have to pay the price somehow, and if that means putting up with occasional flatulence, i’m good. that’s family :)</p>
<p>jmmom,lol, H tells the boys all the time that they should enjoy it while they can because once they start dating seriously, it’s all over until the ring is on the finger and it’s too late to back out! Of course he often proclaims that he never had a gas problem until after marriage so it must be my fault!!!</p>
<p>When Son was very young, he was sitting in front of the church during “Children’s Sermon”. Pastor asked what rules people had in thier home. Son announced very loudly “No shooting each other”. (We were in the midst of banning guns & knives & swords from the day care.)</p>
<p>peggy-</p>
<p>Totally off topic: We carefully chose a daycare with no guns or other “war toys.” Later in the week, I went to pick up my little angel and found the little boys running around shooting each other with the plastic farm animals from the barnyard set!</p>
<p>LOL mafool that is ridiculous!!! They always said WWIV would be fought with sticks and stones, but cows and sheep???</p>
<p>OK. I’m going to try to tie my detour back to the main topic, with it’s in-depth coverage of flatulence. Consider the amount of methane emitted by an army full of cows and sheep.</p>