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JevInstincts
Now on with the show . . . The other day I was sitting at the dinner table, and I decided that I would regale my family with my melodic flatulence. I'm no Joseph Pujol, but I can fart out a couple of notes (I can play name that tune, so long as you can name it in three notes or less). No sooner had I embarked on the opening notes of "Oh Canada" when my oldest son (who is nearly four, and knows everything) reached over and grabbed my arm. "You say excuse me Daddy." And then he proceeded to pull me over to the time-out stair and sit me down. "You're on a time-out!" To make matters worse, my wife had to encourage him. "Remember, the time out is one minute for each year." There was no way I was spending more than half an hour on the stairs. I asked if I could read a book, but was denied even that simple pleasure. I was just to sit and reflect upon my actions. A few minutes later my son trotted over and told me that my time-out was over, and he gave me a hug. Back at the dinner table, I was subdued and ate my dinner in silence. Well, more or less - until my son looked at me a let go a little stinker of his own. It was only one note, and I couldn't name the tune, but it was a start. I would have told him to keep on practicing, but he was on the stair at that point, and the disgusted look from my wife, more or less said that I didn't have anything to add. Jevster, |
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Well,
it's finally happened. I've hit the pinnacle of existence. Last month
I went on about Tim Horton's (you can start humming the Canadian national
anthem to provide the soundtrack) and today (although the "today" that
I refer to is now long past, but thanks to the letter-time-continuum
it appears to be your today, while at the same time it is my past) I
made my pilgrimage to the counter of the Horton's. When I got to the
counter, the girl smiled at me and said, "Small black coffee and a Boston
cream." I'm pretty sure if I was outside the clouds would have parted
and the sun would have shone on my head. Oh what a red letter day.