Hello all you beautiful people! How are you? Me, I’m doing all right but I am a bit sleep deprived. Which, in my little corner of the world, translates into rum-dumb silliness. Or, in other words, goofy things make me snicker.
Things like people’s names. For example, I recently heard of a gentleman with a first name of Richard. And a surname of Wisher. And he goes by the nickname for Richard. Let’s hope if he’s married, his wife doesn’t get mail addressed to Mrs. blah blah. Read more…
A few days ago Mister Soandso paused in his giggle fit to show me the Imgur file titled, “Thermal Fart” and I have to admit sharing it with a few others. Others who I thought might at least feel the corners of their mouths twitch in appreciation of seeing a person fart in technocolor. Because, really, who doesn’t find farting funny? Actually, I can think of some very unfunny fart moments such as death bombs in enclosed places and during your big presentation for work. But in general, it isn’t only adolescent boys who smirk over flatulence. Farting seems an international and intergenerational gag in the making. Except for those who are a bit squeamish about such things. (Like me. Although I have come quite a long way on the subject. Curious? Read here.) But I have long held this belief: if the act of flatulence was visible, people would do a whole lot less of it, thus depriving amateur and professional comics of vast amounts of material.
There is just nothing that can top the shopping experiences of a mother trying to purchase a list of three items. Especially if that said mother has a three year old with her.
First stop, Target. Two items: facial tissue and crackers for the three year old’s Halloween party tomorrow. 48 minutes, 3 trips to the bathroom, 1 Icee, and one very tortuous trip through the toy department later, we were finally read to leave. In the shopping cart? One long sleeve tee, 3 boxes of facial tissue (including one with fish on it in garish colors fit for only the criminally insane or 3 year old boys), a Littlest Pet Shop figure, and a dinosaur coloring book. On the way out, three year old loudly announces that he has just farted. Several nearby folk react – some with humor but a few of the bluer-haired ladies looked a bit peeved.
Second stop, Petco. $37 later, mom is the proud owner of 2 Tetra, 4 carbon filters, and a test strip kit. It only took 2 trips to the bathroom; which means I only had to hear the announcement, “Mom! I have to poop!!!” twice. (If your child has been potty trained for less than a month, you do not, upon penalty of dire consequences, make that child hold it. Because, you know once you threaten to throw away accident-filled underwear, that die has been cast.)
Ah, home in time for a cup of Chai.
Oh crap. Forgot the crackers for the stupid, stupid, stupid party tomorrow. Guess now I get to make a trip to the store with three children. You can only imagine how many items will make their way mysteriously into the shopping cart. Makes farting the best part of a shopping trip.