Noah, my five-year-old son, recently traded in a bunch of Incredible Pizza tickets for an item so hilariously awesome in its sheer guy-ness that I had to share.
He calls it the "Wushy-Cushy."
The Wushy-Cushy is a balloon-like device, often made of rubber, but in Noah's case, made of green plastic cloth-like material. He demonstrated it for me immediately by blowing into it to inflate it about halfway. He then, right there in the middle of Incredible Pizza, placed it on the floor and proceeded to sit on it.
It looked kind of like this:
Of course, it was hilarious. Flatulence noises always are.
But what struck me especially dumb was Noah's innate desire to simulate the sound of passing gas. I have not instructed him in this. Neither has Michelle. This incident has simply placed in me a deep-rooted knowledge that the males of our species are genetically predisposed to laughing hysterically at fart noises, which is perhaps why such sounds pervade so many of the so-called comedies on display at the nearest cinema.
Of course, Noah laughs because he's only five.
Monday, May 14, 2007
The Wushy-Cushy.
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