Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
My quest for authenticity through my writing has required me to reveal quite a bit about myself. Some may say a little too much. Believe it or not, there are a few more things you ought to know or be reminded of before reading this post:
- I love creating awkward situations for my own enjoyment and the discomfort of others
- I have a very sophomoric sense of humor (this may not be a new revelation)
- My family is convinced that I currently have a nasty medical condition
Last week I discovered a product on the internet that’s so completely AWESOME I almost wet myself with anticipation of the possibilities for creating some aforementioned awkward situations. I eagerly read the detailed description of the product, the multitude of glowing customer testimonials, and even watched an amazing home video demonstrating the effectiveness of this item. I was hooked like a bullfrog at the end of a gig pole. Like a caffeine addict with a year’s supply of free Starbucks. Like a flamboyant Apple fanboy with a ticket to the latest Launch Event.
I placed my order on Amazon and scored free 2-day shipping. Then I started some wild and crazy planning for its arrival. Unfortunately, Steve Martin wasn’t available to help. That would have been cool.
So, are you intrigued? Are you crossing your legs in anticipation of the big reveal? Can you even imagine how amazing this product must be to have achieved the coveted Authentic Ramblings “Shut Up You’re Awesome!” award, sight unseen?
This 8th Wonder is called…Liquid ASS.
The website describes it as “an overwhelming, stinky, funny prank product. Once unleashed, this power–packed, super–concentrated liquid begins to evaporate filling the air with a genuine, foul butt–crack smell with hints of dead animal and fresh poo.” Just…awesome!
Two days later my package arrived and I was literally light-headed with giddiness. I had already decided that my family would be the ones to experience this “overwhelming” product. Other people can unfriend me. My family is stuck with me.
Without further ado (or adieu), here’s how it went down.
Friday Night
My wife was out late with some friends while my daughter was at a sleep-over, so my son and I were home alone. He’s created his own entertaiment mecca upstairs in the Game Room, complete with 48” TV, DVR, game consoles, etc., and I could hear him cackling to some adolescent TV humor. I stuffed a bottle of Liquid ASS in my pocket and made my way to his man-cave, where I plopped myself (uninvited) on the sofa directly behind the La-Z-Boy where he was sprawled.
“Sup?”
“Not much, just seeing what you’re up to.”
“Just watching Family Guy.”
“K.”
I silently extracted the bottle, pulled the cap like the pin on a hand grenade, and pumped the nozzle five or six times directly behind his chair.
“WHAT is that smell?!” He whipped his head around the edge of the chair to glare at me. The aroma was rising, and oh my gosh it was shocking.
“Ummm…it might be me? Mom and I ate Mexican for dinner and I had some really funky tasting charro beans.”
I could barely contain my immature giggles, but he wasn’t the least bit suspicious. Is there any teenage boy who can resist the humor of a farting scenario? As the essence increased in intensity, however, he found it much less humorous.
“You need to quit eating that stuff that makes you stink like that. Seriously Dad, it smells like a squirrel crawled up your butt and died. Uggggh! I need you to leave. Now! I’m gonna barf.” (You know it’s rank when this comment comes from a kid who relies on Axe Body Spray as a shower alternative.)
When I realized he was ready to forcibly remove me from the room, I got up, fanned my butt in his face as I walked by him, and went back downstairs.
Saturday Night
My daughter got home late from a school band trip. I saw my window of opportunity as she chattered non-stop to my wife about her day. I pocketed the bottle of Liquid ASS and stealthily made my way upstairs. Once outside her bedroom, I pumped a few liberal sprays in her doorway and in her bathroom. I retreated down the back stairs as she began to head up the front stairs to get ready for bed. I hid in my bedroom because I knew I couldn’t remain composed and I’d give myself away. Almost immediately the mayhem began.
“Mooooom!!!”
“What do you need?”
“You gotta come up here! It smells like poop all over!”
My wife rolled her eyes and trudged upstairs, as I watched and listened from the door of the bedroom where I pretended to fold laundry.
“Dang! What did you do?”
“Mom – I didn’t do anything! I haven’t even been here! Ugh. It smells like cat litter. Without the litter.”
“Well it smells fine down the hall there where we keep the cat litter box. It’s coming from your bedroom.”
My wife came down, grabbed a can of Lysol, and went back up to spray the funk away. What she was unaware of was one of the unique properties of Liquid ASS: you cannot disguise that smell with any amount of disinfectant spray, air freshener or perfume. Liquid ASS is large and in charge and it, and it alone, decides when to recede.
“Gak! Now it just smells like butt-flavored Lysol!”
“I’m doing the best I can, honey!”
My son became aware of the stenchy situation as my wife flew into our bedroom to consult with me, and he followed her in.
“Jon, I really don’t know what to think about this. It smells terrible up there. Like really bad. Worse than that time we went on vacation for a week and left a chicken carcass in the trash under the sink.”
“It’s Dad! It’s Dad! He’s farting! He did it to me last night!”
I couldn’t control the grin that began to spread across my face, and my wife began the third degree.
“It’s you? Have you been in or near her bedroom?”
“Well, I had to put some laundry away in there.”
“Oh my lord!”
“It may have been something I ate. Not sure.”
My daughter finally settled down and went to sleep an hour later, although still indignant, as the smell finally began to dissipate.
Sunday Morning
While my wife was upstairs making sure the kids were up for church, I sprayed some Liquid ASS around our bathroom and then hopped in the shower. She came in to do her make-up, walked through the room, and sort of stumbled as the reek hit her nostrils. She grabbed her make-up kit and blow dryer and hustled to the powder room next door to finish getting ready.
She never said a word to me or displayed her disgust with the smelly fumes (allegedly) coming from my butt. Bless her heart. She must really love me, for better or for worse.
Sunday Night
The wife and I had dinner by ourselves at one of our favorite Mexican food restaurants. When our food arrived, she sighed.
“This isn’t really what I wanted, but my stomach’s been upset so I needed to get something without beans.”
“Me too! I do not need any more beans!”
“Are you sure it’s beans that are causing your problem? Cause it seems like this issue goes way beyond anything even beans would create. Oh. My. Gosh. I’ve never smelled anything like that. Wow. I thought something had died in the attic above the girl’s bedroom.”
Later Sunday Night
On the way home from dinner, we stopped at Kroger to engage in our ritual Sunday-night grocery shopping soiree.
“Ooh! I need to get some more of that soy milk to use with my protein shakes.”
“Wait – how do you know that’s not what’s causing the smell?”
“Hmmm…my parents gave me that as a baby because I was lactose intolerant. It’s got to be okay.”
“Well, we’ve got to figure it out. Because truly, I’ve never smelled anything as foul as what’s coming out of you. And we’ve been married a long time.
We got home, unloaded the groceries, and collapsed. My wife commented, “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?” My son didn’t waste the opportunity to jump in with, “It’s probably just the heat from all that methane in the air from Dad.”
So, Dear Family. Surprise! You’ve been authentically pranked!
What’s the most awesome practical joke you’ve played on somebody?
My two teenage kids are very different from each other and these differences go way beyond gender and age. My wife and I have watched their personalities develop over the years, and it’s pretty clear that we’re on the brink of unleashing some funky uniqueness on the world.
As far as personality assessments go, I really like Gary Smalley and John Trent’s categorization of characteristics by animal type. It appeals to my offbeat sense of reasoning and carnivore leanings. Their four animal types include:
- Lion: strong-willed, independent, decisive, a leader; can be unforgiving, sarcastic, cruel, and domineering
- Otter: very social, tend to be the life of the party, want to join in wherever there’s a potential for a good time, and are eternally optimistic; can be undisciplined, unproductive, and unstable
- Beaver: methodical, don’t like a lot of change, hate being forced out of their comfort zone; can be pessimistic, moody, unsociable, and critical
- Golden Retriever: Calm, easy-going, dependable, quiet, objective, diplomatic, humorous; can be a procrastinator, unmotivated, indecisive, fearful, a worrier
We see it so clearly now. We gave life to a lion (Leonardo) and an otter (Bubbles). The differences and characteristics are most pronounced when they interact with each other. Here’s an example of a typical conversation while waiting in the drive-through at Whataburger.
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My wife and I are finally in a new season of life. We’ll call it summer, because fall or winter sounds a little too close to death. Our kids are teenagers, mostly self-sufficient (except for feeding themselves and remembering to shower and brush their teeth), and we have a 51% chance of leaving them alone together without bloodshed. The odds are finally in our favor!
My sweetie and I have learned to take advantage of opportunities to get away together (even if briefly) from the incessant white noise that defines teenage conversation. In other words, we run for the hills when the boy-child starts in on why our AT&T cell plan stinks, how come we won’t switch to Verizon, and how the latest tablet technology is better than the iPad because there are no physical buttons. When the girl-child begins talking over him with the latest celebrity gossip about Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, and the cast of the Biggest Loser, that’s our signal.
“Kroger?”
“Yep. Hurry!”
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My sweet Leah,
I cannot believe you are 14 today! I probably don’t say it enough, but I am so proud of you. I’m so glad God gave me you as my daughter. When I look at you, talk with you, and see how you interact with others, I’m amazed at what a beautiful young lady you’ve become. You’re just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside.
There are so many things that I love about you, but here are a few that continue to make an impression on me:
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Last week our family had a rare opportunity to actually sit together around the dinner table for a meal. Life is so busy with active teenagers in the house, church meetings, and other volunteer commitments, that it seems we’re always going in separate directions. We had some good talk, and discussed how each other’s day went.
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