The guy I married and just celebrated our 11 year anniversary with may be over six feet tall, but alot of his sense of humor still hasn't made it past a six years old's.
Case in point:
Last weekend I was in the kitchen doing dishes and Jeremy comes in laughing his head off.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"I found the MOST AWESOME app," he says.
(An "app" or application is like a little program or game you can download for your iphone. I'm sure you've seen all the commercials. They can track your budget, calculate tips, tell you where the best deals are, etc. There are about as many commercials as there are app's--like a million.)
And since he had just given me an iphone for the aforementioned anniversary (even though I told him not to, I'm not the type that has to have the latest or greatest technology. Mostly I just get frustrated that I don't know how to work anything. And I DON'T NEED ANY DANG GPS--I DON'T GO ANYWHERE.
But he did anyway--"so we can text each other like teenagers in love." I think we've texted each other maybe 12 times in two weeks. And he programmed it to play Barry Manillow when he calls me. But I have to admit it's a nice little gadget even though I still think it's completely unnecessary and an attempt to make us all a little lazier than we already are. I mean, do I really need to control the music playing on my computer from the kitchen with my PHONE? I can't walk 20 feet and push a button? Ugh. I do like being able to pay my bills while I'm sitting in the car waiting for Alex to finish soccer practice. But I think all the joy of all its convenience is outweighed by the fear that either I will lose it, or the boys will grab it and unleash their evil forces upon it, with its fate being similar to the little furry moss ball that the plumbers extracted from the toilet a few months ago.)
Back to the story:
So of course I'm thinking that it's an app for my new phone, perhaps showing me where the closest Sonic is at all times, or something that will immediately silence a screaming carful of kids at the exact moment I'm considering veering into oncoming traffic JUST TO STOP THE NOISE.
But no, no it's not anything useful like that.
It's a program of fart noises. Yes, you read that correctly F-A-R-T-S. Farts. (I hate that word--my kids aren't allowed to say it. It causes me heart palpitations to even type it. They are forced to say 'toot' because fart just sounds too Bart Simpson and trashy to me.) The program consists of about 20 different sounding farts, all of them having very descriptive names. That's it--the most awesome, amazing, life-changing app is called iFart and is described as "The #1 Fart Machine For All Ages." I'm hoping that title is self-proclaimed and that nowhere on this earth does a fart machine competition really exist wherein their program took the blue ribbon. But get this--he had to BUY IT. He paid money for fart noises. And he thinks it's the best thing since sliced bread.
He didn't understand my total lack of being impressed. Or my disgust at having to listen to something someone recorded and named "Burrito Maximo," after which I'm quite sure there had to be an underwear change. So with full volume to drown out his gut-laughter, he attempts to convince me at this app's awesomeness by playing the farts one by one. Silent but deadly, wind bag, squeezer, squirt, the sick dog....ALL OF THEM. At that point, I was getting really annoyed. Mostly because I'm thinking, "How can I be married to someone who finds this entertaining? Where did I go wrong?" and also "THIS is why my kids are disgusting" and finally, "I can't believe he actually paid money for that."
And of course, all the kids were magnetically drawn to it, running from various areas of the house so they could come hear all the fart noises. All five of them sat there hysterically hooting and hollering at each one. And Jeremy was right at home amongst a group aged 2-8. Sheesh.
We even had a friend over for dinner that night and he whipped the farts out for him, too. Just to prove to me that someone else thought it was funny. But he was a guy and also thought it was horribly funny, so maybe that's just one of those things they never outgrow.
Poor, poor Maddie really has no chance of turning out normal. I mean, look at me--it seems I spend all my free time talking about poop--and I only had two brothers and a dad that never forced me to listen to fart noises (well, recorded ones that is. hehe.) The girl will be telling poop jokes and making fart noises with her armpits during her first date. I can see and hear it now. The small chance of her turning out normal just got flushed down the toilet with a bunch of farts.
Oh and don't worry. Jeremy was nice enough to load it on my iphone too, so if you think I'm lying I can prove it next time I see you. Apparently I can also program the phone to make a fart noise whenever it's picked up. But I have yet to figure out why anyone would want people around them to think that they just farted when they're trying to answer a call...especially a fart named "Kazoo," which sounds exactly like you'd expect in case you were wondering.
But wait, just WAIT. The worst part is that the thing Jeremy was most excited about is that on iFart, get this...
You can record your OWN fart.
HEAVEN HELP ME.
Enjoy your Monday with a little more potty humor...