Back in the early 80's I babysat for a lady who my dad home taught. Her son was Paul and he would record (on his boom box no less) his burps and farts and then play them for me when I would come to babysit. He was a rascally kid. But this isn't about him. It's about his mama. Lois lived in a pink house. At least that's what I remember about it. Everything was pink. And she had lots and lots of shoes. All neatly arranged in her closet in plastic boxes. The furniture was covered in plastic. And her son, well, never mind. Lois drove a little Geo Metro hatchback-type car. I think it was mauve. Geo Metros weren't around back then. Heck, we couldn't even walk away from the wall while on the phone back then! But it was a little itty bitty round car. Did I tell you Lois was a round lady? Well, she was. She was shorter than I, and I am only 5 foot 2. She had an afro-like perm to her head, which just added to the roundness. Any which way you were to look at Lois, she was round. And her legs were very short. She sat so close to the steering wheel in the little round car that her very round, um, -ness, met said steering wheel with magnificence. It was surely a sight to behold. Did I mention the floor in the house was covered in plastic?
Covered in Awesomeness!
Lois H. was a belcher. NO. Not a burper. A BELCHER!! She would rip one out, deep and throaty, and then the funniest thing in the world would occur. In her high pitched Mickey Mouse voice she would excuse herself.
*****BEELLLLCH***** excuse me *****BEELLLLCH***** excuse me *****BEELLLLCH***** excuse me
It was just the doggondest thing ever.
When I burp, pardon me, when I belch, I am most often fond of excusing myself in a high pitched Mickey Mouse voice. Now you know why.
P.S. Is doggondest a word??