It started with an arm fart.  You know the noise.  The one that is produced when lips blow onto the skin of the arm close to or on the crook of the elbow.

It was a juicy one.  Produced by Cody in the back of the car on our way to school and work.

carter:  EEEEWWW!  It sounded like you had diarrhea.

Long pause…

carter:  or diabetes.

me:  Welllll, diarrhea and diabetes are two very different things.

Short pause…

me:  But they can both kill you.

cody:  choking on his laughter – diarrhea can kill you?!?

Insert here a lengthy – too lengthy, perhaps – discussion on various ways people can get chronic diarrhea, diseases such as Cholera, and the necessity for Cholera cots.  (Believe it or not this same subject has come up in the past and I have written about it here – but be warned there is a picture in that blog post that cannot be unseen (and another, maybe even more horrific picture if you click on the Cholera Cot link).

We got to the stoplight and turned left.  We were almost at their school.  I felt it only fair to attempt to allow Diabetes the same amount of time under the spotlight as diarrhea, but time was running out (and to be honest, my background in Microbiology provided me more knowledge and talking points about diarrhea than it did Diabetes.)

The boys had lost interest.  The arm farts in the back of the car became more and more infrequent.

We pulled up to their school and in a moment they were off, backpacks in place, with friends to meet and play equipment to conquer.

I was left alone for the remainder of my drive to work, shaking my head over the Diabetes and diarrhea conversation.