So, I’m going to cheat a little. This funny story actually didn’t happen this week… and it didn’t happen to me either.
My dad was the unfortunate victim in this one last week.
My dad… well, he’s a wonderful grandfather–exceptional, actually–but my kids can make him a little nervous. Namely, Z-boy.
In this particular instance-encounter-incident-whatever, my dad was taking TheWiseOne and Z-boy to our local general store for a treat before going to his house. Z-boy grabbed a bag of chips while TheWiseOne continued to browse. Things were going well for a change until there was a sudden “pop”.
Now when I say “pop”, I don’t mean a bubble popping. I don’t mean the crisp pop of a soda can opening either. I mean, the kind of blatant, deafening burst you hear when a balloon is popped next to your ear… in the middle of a church… during a wedding when they say, “Does anybody have any objections???”
Yeah. That kind of pop.
My poor dad, by now, has become somewhat accustomed to the chaos that inevitably follows when my children are involved, but even he was not ready for this. He turned around to see Z-boy sprawled out on top of an exploded-bag of chips like a sumo wrestler who had just belly-flopped on a pile of balloons filled with confetti.
My dad left. With the kids that is. And new chips.