Joey, being a Woestman, has what I consider to be a gas problem. All Woestman men have this problem. It is very unfortunate.
This problem is particularly acute (and loud) in the mornings, for some reason. (And it's not a fun way to be woken up, either.) This morning was no exception. I was doing my makeup and Joey was in the shower when suddenly...
I won't bother to type out what kind of noise it was. I think you can probably figure it out. Suffice it to say that this particular noise was louder than normal. It probably didn't help that Joey was in the shower which is basically an echo chamber.
"I am Chief Big Toot!" He bellowed from behind the shower curtain. He paused. "Was that funny?"
"No, it was gross." I said, mascara wand in hand.
"Come on....Chief Big Toot? What's funnier than that?" He sounded all wounded and pathetic.
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "OK, the Chief Big Toot thing is kind of funny," I admitted.
"It is, it is!" Joey said. He was out of the shower by now.
"It is." I said.
A few quiet moments later Joey, who had obviously been thinking very hard, said to me, "You are Indian Pathetic Toot."
"Oh come on," I said, "At least I want to be a Brave."
"Hmm. OK, you're Brave Small Puff then."
"Thank you," I said, smugly, and left the bathroom.
"You can blog about this," he called after me.
"I probably will." I hollered back. I made the bed, played with Henry and checked on the laundry on the line before going back into the bathroom to monitor Joey's progress. (Sometimes he's a little slow in the mornings and he just needs a good pinch in the bum. And now that we carpool...)
There he was, running his electric shaver.
"How's it coming?" I asked.
"When we have kids, we can call them the Little Toots. And they can call me Chief Big Toot, too! Oh wait. Except your mom wouldn't like it....so we'd have to do it secretly."
(Joey is always getting in trouble at my parents' house because Mom isn't used to Joey's wild and crazy ways. Well, she probably is by now, but we all still pretend she's not.)
So Chief Big Toot and I were ten minutes late getting out the door this morning.
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2 comments:
Oh, the life of the Woestman's! I feel like sending you a sympathy card...rather, an empathy card, because I feel your pain. It must be a guy thing, specifically the morning routine. I tell Jim to shut the bathroom door while I (the sleep-inn queen) take advantage of my final snooze minutes. It's annoying, funny, and gross all at once. Oiy, boys. Wanna hear something funny. I have to whisper - once, Jim tried to anticipate the tone of his toot.
"Mi, mi, mi, mi, mi...toot."
"You were way off!" was my response!
Thanks for commenting on my blog, Jenna! Thanks also for your candor in sharing about your marriage to Chief Big Toot. The only comment I'll make about Stevenson men and their gas is that I have no comment...
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