The Fart
The sound was unmistakable; it came from Tommy’s dad. Nine-year old Tommy didn’t know it yet, but he was in trouble. “I think I heard a butt snort,” he said. His father had obviously been using the phrase for years, but only at home, and certainly not with company present.
His mom was embarrassed, out of town guests for dinner, and her son had spoken words not used in polite company. She looked at her husband, her eyes said, “I told you this would happen.” He lowered his head, like a puppy who’s just been caught soiling the carpet, but said nothing.
“Tommy,” she said. “Tommy,” she repeated, and then she gave him the look. Tommy didn’t understand, his parents always laughed when he said that, but not this time. Tommy looked as though he might cry and so I turned to him and said, yeah I heard it too, and it’s a big one I think. Tommy smiled, he looked relieved.