Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Growing up my family had a 35 foot, Catalina 34 sailboat. Don't get confused on why a 35" boat was called a Cat34, it's not worth waisting the brain power on. Anyway, between the ages of 5 and 18 that boat was kind of the center of my families world because it was the center of my fathers world. Every Wednesday in the summer was racing, just about every weekend we would go to Catalina Island and in the winter it was out rigged for scuba diving and lobster hunting. These are the activities that really defined my childhood, but it didn't stop with what you could do on the boat, the boat itself really defined it too, even down to her name. You see my father had an infantile sense of humor, one which he passed on to me and one which I will most likely pass on to my children as well. Because it was a racing boat, and because it was a boat that harnessed wind power AND MOST OF ALL because of my dad's sense of humor, the boat was named "Passing Wind". Any suspicion that her name was innocent in nature ended when you saw the design on the racing shirts: A gust of wind coming out of a section of cloud whose crescent shaped puffs looked much like a persons back side, with the ancient moniker for wind (the "cloud man" seen on ancient maps) looking sheepishly back wards toward the action. My dad found this funny. My dad's friends found this funny. I found this funny. So it's no surprise that last night as we headed to tuck the girls in before making our own way to bed, I was rendered unable to assist. We cracked the door open and Gina slid in while I dimmed the hallway light, and just as I started to move through the doorway Genevieve started moving around as if she were about to wake up. Gina hit the floor and I quickly retreated pulling the door closed to darken the room, and just as I did so she let out a series of the loudest flatulence I've heard in quiet some time. I lost it. I couldn't breath I was trying so hard to hold in my childish laughter. Every time I regained my composure and headed back to the room I lost it again as soon as I reached out for the doorknob, spinning around and running to our room to stuff my face in a pillow and drown out the wheezing and gagging noise I was making. I literally tried to reenter the room 5 times. Finally Gina came out to scold me, finished with the task at hand, and not nearly as amused as I was. That, of course, didn't keep her from making farting noises the rest of the night in successful attempts to make me laugh again. What can I say? It's in my blood. And when Gina pointed out that it wasn't nice of me to make fun of her I had to explain that I was not laughing at her. She's my child and thus she would find this just as funny as I did, therefor I am laughing with her. ... she just doesn't know it yet.
at 7:17 AM