Fart Cookies.

My son was born with a cleft palate. His plastic surgeon told us that G had the biggest cleft he had seen in 15 years. The surgery took 6 hours, 2 hours longer than anticipated.
Since G was born, after he was pegged as a child with Pierre Robbins Sequence we were assigned or visited by speech therapists. Before G could speak, we were doing daily exercises like blowing on tissues or sucking through different size straws. All fun for G, and he unknowingly exercised his tongue, jaw, and mouth.
Adjusting to G’s speech patterns and pronunciation can be difficult. He has improved in leaps and bounds. Sometimes there are still misunderstandings.
The most often brought up story about G comes from when he was 4, almost 5 years old.

For months I had to reprimand G for insulting his playmates at school. For calling our new (at the time) kitten, Parker names. G had even dared to call me the same insult one day.
I was driving, and looked back in the mirror at G who was finally in a big car seat as he had reached the weight limit. I was telling G a story when he giggled and suddenly said “Mommy, you’re a fart cookie.”
I yelled. “G! We do NOT call people names, you need to stop!”
He got upset, and looked out the window.
I had for the last month or so found stuffed animals all over the house floor every time I would come home or wake up and come out into the living room. At first I assumed that G wasn’t picking up after himself, but on this day, G was at preschool. How did the stuffed animals and beanie babies get all over the floor?
I heard noise coming from the play room, attached to the living room. G and I snuck in as silently as possible for a mom and a 4 year old in snow pants.
We looked in and couldn’t believe our eyes.
Gabe’s kitten Parker was climbing up this net stuffed animal storage thing that was hanging from the ceiling. He scaled the whole thing, climbed into one of the holes, pulled out a stuffed animal and carried it in his mouth all the way back down. This is even more impressive than it sounds as the Beanie Babies Parker was carrying were about his size.
Parker brought the toy to the ground and then proceeded to wrestle with it. When he got bored, Parker would climb back up and grab another stuffed animal.

“Woah,” I said, a bit taken back. “Parker, you’re one smart cookie…”
An eruption went off behind, like a tiny grenade had suddenly been flung at my knees and ankles.


Looking back on the moment, G and I always giggle like crazy. He loves to share the story whenever he can.
“Fart Cookie” has also become an inside joke among the family and close friends.


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