Monday, November 9, 2015

Toot Toot

There is an old joke that has been around for years and it tells a story about a boy who was meeting his girlfriend's parents for the first time before they went out on a date.  After the young man knocks on the door he is greeted by the dad and promptly ushered to the living room where the boy sees an old English bulldog named Spot,resting on the floor beside the recliner.  The young man is quick to sit in the empty recliner in hopes of hiding his nervousness.  Soon after that the father began a relentless interrogation of the boy about his intentions with his daughter.  The boyfriend became even more nervous with each passing minute and he noticed that ole Spot was now sitting in front of him, begging to be petted.  So in an attempt to calm his nerves he began petting Spot as the father's questions continued.  The more questions that were asked the more nervous the boy became.  As the boyfriend's nervousness grew his stomach began to grumble and growl.  As his stomach continued to growl he started having gas pains.  His gas pains  got worse and worse.  The boy's stomach hurt so bad he knew he needed to get rid of some of that pressure or explode and not in a good way, so the boyfriend let out a little toot in hopes that his girlfriend's father would not notice.  After that the barrage of questions suddenly stopped for a moment and the father  quietly spoke, "Spot!" then the questions resumed.  The boyfriend soon realized that he had not tooted enough to get rid of his terrible gas pains and decided to let loose a bigger one in hopes of getting some relief.  When he did the girlfriend's father suddenly stopped all questions again and said with a slightly firmer tone "Spot!" and continued with his questions.  After the second toot the boyfriend concluded that the father was thinking Spot was the one passing gas and since he only got minor relief from toot number two the boyfriend decided to let out a big one so he could finally get some significant relief from those gas pains.  So without giving it a second thought the boyfriend went for the gold and blew off one that would make a champion chilli eater proud (no pun intended) but when he did, the father screamed out with panic in his voice "SPOT!"....."Get away from that boy before he poops on you!!!" 

I know that subject matter is a little crude and I really want to keep these stories as a G rating, especially for the younger readers, but what happened the other day with Red Dog reminded me of this boyfriend story.

It was a restful Tuesday evening, I was not on call and it was just about supper time.  Debbie was making her wonderful homemade pizza pie loaded with everything she could find in the fridge.  The aroma throughout the house was amazing.  I could not wait to tear into that freshly sliced pepperoni, Jimmy Dean sausage, yellow sweet onion, green pepper and black olive pie.  Reed was living back at home then while he awaited being shipped to basic training at Great Lakes Navel Station so the three of us grabbed our eating gear, loaded our plates with steaming hot slices of homemade pizza pie and headed to the living room to enjoy our meal while watching M*A*S*H reruns on Netflix. ( I am expecting to receive a handsome endorsement check from Netflix once this story is posted for promoting their product by the  Even Red Dog got in on the action and got his own slice of pizza heaven on this day.  Once we finished eating we all sat back to enjoy the rest of our overindulgent evening.  It was quite a sight to see as Reed and I fell into a 30 minute pizza coma while Debbie pecked away at her computer working on her blog, Texasdaisey Creations and Red Dog stretched out on the floor snoring away like some old man with sleep apnea.  Once Reed and I had regained consciousness we were all chuckling over some old M*A*S*H reruns when all of a sudden Debbie jumped to her feet and yelled "OH MY LORD WHO IN THE WORLD DID THAT"!!!  A new aroma had suddenly overtaken the room and it smelled nothing like homemade pizza, that is for sure.  When Debbie yelled out, it got our attention mucho pronto.  Out of pure instinct I began reciting apologies from the Married Husbands HandBook in an attempt to deflect any wifely punishments that might be forthcoming for marital offenses, I may or may not have committed in the past 24 hours (i.e. leaving my socks on the bedroom floor, not putting the lid down after doing my little boy business, or sleeping through one of those heart to heart marital conversations that goes on for hours just to name a few).  But I was apparently still a little pizza drunk and not immediately aware of what the "OH MY LORD" was all about.  All I can say was that my beloved son, who will be written out of my will soon, was quick to point a finger my direction saying "It was Dad, It was Dad" and I was still trying to figure out what all the yelling was about.  "Thanks for standing strong for Team Testosterone son!"  I finally got a whiff of what all the yelling was about and "WOW!" was it bad.  Fortunately for me my dear sweet loving kind hearted wife did not, I repeat, did not initially blame me for this terrible offense.  She first accused her number one son which was quite surprising given the fact that he has been her little darling the past 23 instantly denied he had anything to do with it and continued to try to throw me under the bus.  So as a good murder mystery goes, if it wasn't Reed, Debbie or myself and given the fact that we don't have a butler in a library or reading room in our Huntley Manor then the only remaining suspect in the room is Red Dog.  But the question on all of our minds is how could it be Red Dog.  He was lying there lazily watching time passing by without a care in the world showing no sign he was the guilty party.  The mystery was finally solved a few short minutes later after our attention was drawn back to the M*A*S*H reruns.  Red Dog got up from his resting place then began waltzing across the room with his tail proudly displayed high in the air and with each step we heard a TOOT......TOOT TOOT.....TOOT TOOT TOOT!!!!!!! 

Unfortunately at that point there was no doubt who was guilty of this terrible atrocity and OH MY GOODNESS it went from bad to really bad in a few short steps.  I must confess that I was relieved (no pun intended...well maybe some pun intended) that this one could not be pinned on me but as a guy I had to give ole Red Dog two thumbs up for a job well keep from getting into trouble with my bride I kept my poker face on and the snickers to myself as she marched out of the room completely grossed out.  Who knew Red Dog was part pack    

Today's take home message is never feed Red Dog homemade pizza and although somewhat gross Red Dog is still a guy and he can TOOT with the best of them.  So I guess when it is all said and done the old saying "Guys Will Always Be Guys" hold true for both man and  Until the next adventure God bless you all.