My Son Made Me A Whoopie Cushion

Ok, it is time to tell the tale of how 40 pounds of terror turned his dad into a jungle gym and an unwitting Whoopie Cushion. For those of you who are not familiar with them I have placed an example for your review and consideration next to the text.

It is potty humor at its finest. Place the cushion beneath a pillow on a chair/couch and then laugh at the red face of someone who has sat on said cushion and emitted a noise that sounds like it came from their nether regions.

My son the innovative and inventive 4.5 year-old managed to get around the problem of not actually owning one by using dear old dad to create the desired effect.

We were at a family affair and it was post meal. I was seated on the couch and had been for some time enjoying my food coma. It is not uncommon for my dysfunctional digestive system to respond to some foods by engaging in chemical warfare. If this is too much information for you I suggest skipping this post and finding something else to read as I am big on the self deprecating humor.

As I lounged there with my eyes half closed I listened to the conversation around me and tried to just enjoy the moment. It was very pleasant and had every expecatation of that continuing when my reverie was broken by the happy scream of a child followed by a loud thud as he landed square on dad's stomach.

The collision set off an immediate chain reaction and had he not been sprawled across me the explosion from my own loins would have propelled me through the roof. To give you a sense of how loud it was conversation in the room stopped. There was a brief lull followed by gales of laughter. I should add that the laughter started as tittering, but the moment was too much and they gave in.

I took it all in stride and promised payback to those laughing. The day will come when they get hit by a couple of SBDs and then we shall see who has the last laugh. :)

5 comments:

bornfool said...

Nicely done. I love the phraseology. lol

Jack Steiner said...

Thanks

Sam said...

My gas is legendary among my inner circle. Frequency, smell and sound. I am a gas machine.

Maddie said...

Nice!

I once rode an elevator in a Vegas hotel with a concealed whoopie cushion. Did I mention how mature I am?

Jack Steiner said...

MP,

That is something that I would do.

-J

Still Driving Traffic

Still one of the most popular posts on the blog.