A short burst of foul cacophony

As THEBOY stood at his closet last night, picking a bedtime story, I inflated his whoopee cushion and put it under his pillow.

 

He brought over a Nemo book and hopped up on the bed. He leaned back on his pillow and we heard a brief “brap.”

 

“Ew!” he said, looking at me with a wrinkled brow.

 

“It wasn’t me!” I said.

 

“It wasn’t ME!” he said.

 

And we went back and forth like that a few times.

 

“Maybe it was Mama,” he said.

 

(Ha!)

 

***

 

So after we read the story I said we should play a trick on Mama too.

 

Each night I tuck him in first. Then he hides under the covers and waits for his mother to come tuck him in. Usually I’m supposed to give her some story about his “absence,” like he’s on the moon or in Africa or something. Usually robots are involved.

 

He blew up the whoopee cushion and put it under the other pillow. I summoned Kelli, and told him he’d “done everything” (a new one).

 

She came in, leaned on the pillow and BRAP! A short burst of foul cacophony. Good one!

 

We had a good laugh, and as he explained how I’d tricked him too, I blew it up again and placed it behind her tush.

 

It was full! Why she didn’t feel it I don’t know, but after she tucked him in she rolled over and it REALLY let loose. She screamed and THEBOY and I laughed like we were BOTH five.

 

There are some moments you just can’t express with a Hallmark card, man.