The Dutch Oven

3 y.o. Max doesn't want to go to sleep at night. Last night, at 10:30 p.m., he's annoying everyone. After reading him and his sister several storybooks, he finally agrees to lay down. But he doesn't have his favorite stuffed animal. After searching the entire house, I give up. Meanwhile, my wife's pissed:

wife, toxically flatulent: He keeps waking me up. And you're being really mean to him.
G-man, gagging: well, you shouldn't go to sleep before him. And you shouldn't have turned the Dutch oven up to 450 under the blankets here.

With that, she vanishes into the spare bedroom. I ventilate with the bathroom blower for at least the next 45 minutes until my daughter comes in complaining she's scared. Rest assured I fall asleep, knowing that there isn't enough stink in her tiny body to choke out my dreams.