Speedometer

“Boys, you want to hear a funny story about Daddy?”

“Yes.  Yes.  Yes.”  Tucker comes from the kitchen, and Tyler snuggles closer with his palm in his chin.  These are magic words: a funny story about Daddy.

“One time, long before you were born, Daddy and I were taking a road trip.  That’s when you pick a place on the map and drive there in the car.  Daddy did most of the driving, but he was getting tired and wanted to take a nap.”

They’re listening to closely.  Their eyes are gleaming.

“It was my turn to drive, so we traded places.  He was afraid I would drive too slow while he was sleeping, and we would have to spend more time in the car.   Just before Daddy fell asleep, he teased me.”

I mimic his deep, playful voice.

“Hey, Little Britches.  If I wake up and you’re going slower than 65 miles an hour, I’m going to fart on your face.”

The boys erupt in giggles.  And suddenly I’m not sure why I wanted to tell them this story, to introduce the very idea of farting on someone’s face.  Insert immediate misgivings.

But, it’s out.  They know it now.  And I’m glad I told them.  And they’ll remember this one.  And they’ll know their daddy made us laugh.

By the way, I kept the speedometer above 65.  For crying out loud… that’s a threat I’ll obey.