Tuesday, March 12, 2013

I'm No Toothless Bearded Hag, But He's A Gas, Gas, Gas

Both little Hillbillies returned victorious from the mathlete competition yesterday. The #1 son brought home a 1st Place medal in the 12th grade small schools division, and The Pony hauled in a 3rd Place medal from the 9th grade small schools division. Kudos to my kids.

The Pony also brought home something else. Something not so desirable. Something I did not really pay a mind to until this afternoon. The Pony sat at a desk near the front of my classroom, reading his Kindle Fire while I tied up some loose ends. Which eventually led me to wish that I COULD tie up some loose ends.

A long, low rumble echoed about the room. There was no shaking of the firmament, so I quickly ruled out the overdue quaking of the New Madrid Fault. As I was puzzling it together, a bevy of gigglers paraded up the hall. Shockingly enough, they did not even turn to glance through the door.

"Pony! I can't believe you did that! I'm surprised you're not sailing around the room near the ceiling like a sputtering balloon."

"I can't help it. We ate at that Mexican restaurant yesterday. I think that's what did it."

"Now everybody heard it. And even worse, they just assumed it was ME, and did not even look in here to see that YOU are with me!"

"Too bad, so sad."

On the way home, we passed through a subdivision that sometimes emits sewer gas. The Pony has been accused of being the originator of the odor on more than one occasion. His defense is to sigh and point out that it always smells that way on that section of road. Today I was not really thinking about the air quality. The Pony had his head bent over his Kindle. "Do you like your Kindle, or do you prefer an actual book?"

"BOTH!" The question was barely finished before he blurted his answer.

"Wait a minute. Do you mean you like your Kindle AND books equally...or are you declaring that the smell we just entered came from the sewer AND from you?"

"You don't want to know."

A couple of miles later, I made a comment to The Pony. Just to blur the line between me as chauffeur and him as Grey Poupon passenger. "Hey! You don't have to sigh every time I say something. Excuse ME for interrupting your reading! I'm just the driver."

"I said 'Hm.' I didn't sigh. I don't have enough air for that."

"Isn't THAT the truth, the way you've been losing it all day!"

"Uh...that's from the other end. Not a sigh."


The Pony. He's a little slow on the uptake. But quick with the outgas.


Sioux said...

Having a son and a daughter, I can attest to the fact that boys ARE quite different when it comes to flatulence. Boys (and sometimes men) seem to revel in it.

They're a weird species...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Yes. It's one of their special little things they like to show off.