But I have found a solution! I corner him when he's in the bath tub, and has nowhere to go. I pull up my Ikea Mammut stool, and start telling him my innermost thoughts and feelings.
But today, right in the middle of my interesting monologue about how one of the moms at school looked at me 'funny', I suddenly saw these telltale bubbles around his butt.
'Are you farting?' I asked disbelievingly.
My husband wasn't fazed. 'Farting, farting, I'ld like to call it making my own jaccuzzi. I wonder, do you write jacuzzi with two 'c's or only one?'