The boy lay, reclined in an indolent pose, his feet propped up, his hands behind his head, on his bed. He stared expressionlessly at the person looking at him so hopefully, beseechingly.
Then, slowly, thoughtfully, subtly, never shifting his gaze, he moved his left leg. And let out a fart. A loud, squelchy, long passage of wind.
There was a minute of electric silence.
Then, the person fell upon him, patted him and said, "Oh, my boy, my son, my champion! What a clever, clever boy! How perfectly ingenious of you!"
Yes.
The baby has farted.
Perhaps we can all go to sleep now.
No comments:
Post a Comment