It was quite a surprise to Lynley that I had not shared a particular story about the kiddos in my diary. While incredibly funny at the time I did not think it would translate very well into the written word. After all, some things you have to be there to appreciate. None the less, this is probably one of those things I will want to remember when the kiddos grow up. But, please beware, reading further may damage your IQ.
First off, I don't appreciate fart humor. In that sense, I am not a guys guy. I just don't get it. Perhaps that is due to being conditioned by my wife. You would be surprised at what can be accomplished by a few slaps across the back of the head. None the less, the point is, I have been conditioned not to discuss this taboo topic.
You see, when we go to the grocery store, like most things we do, we do as a family. Quite often, on the weekends you will find all five of the Dungan's out gallivanting through various stores. While it isn't necessary the best quality family time it is yet another chance for us all to be together and that is something Lynley has always been a huge proponent of. So, during our last trip to the grocery store we , once again, found ourselves together. Normally the kids behave pretty well. You know: hands on the cart, walking forward, no fighting. However, on some occasions they just have too much energy. It is on these occasions when I usually take them off on my own to give Lynley an opportunity to focus on the task at hand instead of the gaggle of twerps scurrying in and around the cart.
On this occasion (we were also in a hurry) I elected to take them to the toy aisle. This was a perfect little hiatus as it gave her some peace and quiet and I got a chance to play with the toys. (I mean, it gave the kiddos something to do.) This would have all been well and good had the first thing they discovered not been a self-inflating whoopee cushion. It did not take long before they were all hopping up and down on whoopee cushions and filling the grocery store with the delightful sound of -- well, you know. They were all giggly and mad with whoopee cushion activity. I have never seen them get up and down so quickly.
I must admit the rapid fire barrage of noise was pretty funny. However, as a responsible parent I knew that they could no longer do this. After all, this was not appropriate. Even though I could hear people laughing from several aisles away I knew this was going nowhere good. I asked them to please stop doing it.
Then, for some unknown reason, I thought that they should show their mother. I had a great vision of embarrassing her in the middle of the grocery store. Yeah, I know. This is exactly why I spend so much time in the dog house.
However, that is not the point.
Sure enough, the kiddos were all behind my plan. We snuck across the store back to the vegetable aisles where we found Lynley diligently shopping. There was also a couple of elderly couples (serious looking ones at that) very near her. At this point, I realized that this was not a very good idea. I decided it would be best for me to hide behind an the next aisle. This would protect me from the groceries that I was quite sure were about to be flung in my direction.
Sure enough, the kiddos all approached Lynley and, with a mad passion, they all sat right in front of her cart and began madly hopping up and down on the whoopee cushions creating a symphony of inappropriate noise. Lynley was in complete shock and disbelief at what her children were doing. The older couples gave a very stern look at her. Then it came.
"WHERE IS YOUR FATHER?"
I sheepishly appeared from behind one of the aisle's at which point the entire store erupted in laughter. Even the old folks could not contain their jocularity. For the next several minutes everyone giggled themselves away from the incident. It was not over for me though. Lynley told the kiddos to put the whoopee cushions back and I was instructed to put my hand on the cart and not let go until we were out of the store.
I received a stern lecture and was told to never ever do that again. How old was I? 4?
You see, it really isn't that easy being me.
The good news is that the kiddos got to have fun, I took the heat, and we all learned a very valuable lesson.
Okay, so maybe there was no lesson. But it sure was fun.
Purpose is not always serious.