Brianne used to have trouble sleeping, to put it lightly. Swaddling, rocking, shushing, and walking would take over an hour before she fell asleep, to be followed by another hour of holding and carrying before she was ‘deeply’ asleep enough to be put down. Most nights found me wandering the house, in the dark, lugging her around and being terrified of any sounds that might rouse her.

One night, I farted. Loud and long. I hadn’t even felt it coming.

Time froze as the echoes died down and I looked at the sleeping form in my arms. Terrified of seeing her little eyes open, of hearing the cry begin in her chest before her mouth even cracked.

She stirred.

She looked up at me.

Her body tightened and she farted back at me.

Then she smiled as her eyes rolled back and she returned to slumber.