So there we are sitting down at dinner, and Oldest Child rips one. Makes the table shake – she makes a dad proud.
Psycho-Momia asks her if it was she that made that eye watering gas bubble. I forget OC’s response, but for some ungodly reason, my parental censor was off, and I responded with: “No, butt trumpet!”
A withering look from Psycho-Momia, “Are you sure that’s something you want her to learn?”
And then the real fun began.
OC comes back with “No, Dada, butt tuba!” I couldn’t help myself – I began sniggering. SHe continued on with a list of instruments for the whole family. She ended with “Mama – you have a xylophone up your butt!”
I left the room then, and melted into a puddle of mirth.
Oh, and that xylophone….
I didn’t put it there.
She also said that you had a drum up your butt, (apparently next to the tuba) and that hers was a cymbal (which she described as a round yellow thing that made (insert phonetics) noise. I forget what she decided was youngest child’s.
Aye, it’s pretty and musical family picture that all makes. I remember wondering a few years ago if there was magical age when I would stop thinking farting was funny. If there is, I either missed it, or it hasn’t happened yet. Good thing, because RP likes spicey food!
And yea, there’s a number of intonations that make them musical in my mind! 😆