So this Friday, like every Friday, I was at my parents house having coffee and barfmeal with my dad. Today, we mixed it up a little though, I had a tomato sandwich ala Harriet The Spy instead of my usual english muffin, and my dad decided to invite Mr. Apple to accompany his barfmeal. This meant there was lots of extra crunching along with the regular barfmeal consumption and I was glad to have eaten my sammie before I lost my appetite...no small feat, let me tell you. But barfmeal is not the point of this story, there was another knee slapping moment this morning, only this time, my mom got involved...my dad was the co-star and villain, and moms was definitely the hero.
My dad and I were sitting at the breakfast table, reading the paper...chatting...the ushe, and my mom came into the kitchen to prepare her lunch. As she was prepping, she was telling me how she maybe found a dress for my sister's wedding. So I was asking good daughter questions like "Where did you find it?" and "What color is it?" and "Who's the designer?"(yeah, right...I may watch Project Runway but I don't have a fashionable bone in my body). She was saying how she had been online looking for something and wasn't finding anything good, then by chance was at Carson's the night before, and then right in the middle of the story my mom was telling, I saw my dad lean all the way over and...BRRUUMMmmmbbBOMMMMPPPfffFFTTT...trumpet fart. I immediately began yelling at him, calling him disgusting, asking what was wrong with him. He claimed he didn't know it would be that loud, which...I call bullshit, Phil, a full lean means you know it's gonna be loud and powerful and you want to let it escape so you don't get blown into the air like Old Faithful. Anytoot, after my scolding he put the paper over his face, which at first I thought was him being ashamed. Then, I saw the paper shaking..."Dad, you scum, are you behind the paper laughing at yourself? Of course you are." He said "No, I'm reading the paper!" But he couldn't keep the paper upright, and sure enough, red-faced squinty Phil was there, laughing his head off at his own fart. He tried to cover again, saying he didn't mean to, it was an accident, I kept saying it was on purpose and then my mom chimed in..."Obviously he couldn't stand the fact that he wasn't getting any attention." One look at my mom and I nearly fell on the ground laughing. I actually was bent over double, trying to hold the belly jiggle to a minimum because that's how hard I was laughing. My dad laughed too, even though I had to repeat what my mom said twice, which kind of took away from the hilarity, but still...
Many of you may not think it's funny, laughing about farts. But if you know my family at all, then you know that laughing about farts is what we do...usually at the dinner table...and you love us for doing it. God knows I do.
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