We are eyeball-deep in schoolyard humor.
Gone are the days of that catchy My Little Pony rhyme. We’ve almost forgotten the Y camp sing-along mantra of Hell-o. My name is Joe. I live at Cost-co, I play the ban-jo, and I own Michael Ange-lo. Or the ever more popular: My name is Geoff. I live at Costco. I don’t know the rest… Hawlalucha I guess.
When we bump it, we still go through my fist as a gearshift, a Star Wars TIE fighter, and a snail.
For weeks I had to endure the decades old, “Hey Mom.”
“The eighties called and they want their joke back.”
There’s been a new one recently that somehow takes Donald Duck but riffs off of Donald Trump? It escapes me at the moment. (Jacob has just informed me that it goes: Donald Duck picked his butt, all the way to Pizza Hut. Don’t tell this one to Granddad…)
They are constantly seeking new victims for the “Spell iCUP” gig. Or the even funnier “Spell iCUP rainbows.” The best humor always involves getting your mom to unknowingly walk straight into a potty talk trap. I’m fairly certain that after he learned to spell N-A-T-E, he immediately graduated to B-U-T-T. He is constantly spelling it with that ever-mischievous sparkle in his eye.
This weekend we were still debating the theme of our upcoming joint birthday party. I finally found one of two places in this entire town that hosts birthday parties. (Note to all you gluttons for self-punishment entrepreneurs.) It’s a well-equipped gymnastics gym that will throw a “parkour party” complete with trampoline, ball pit and trained instructors. What’s parkour you ask? Come back soon and I’ll bring you up-to-speed on the latest playground vocab. Dab.
So we’re debating whether we should stick with Pokémon Parkour or make-it Minecraft Parkour, or maybe Pokémon Minecraft Legos Nintendo 3DS Playstation Star Wars Baby Boss Parkour, when I try to make the obvious point: “Pokémon starts with P and Parkour starts with P, so it just seems better than going with Minecraft, you know?”
And Jake enthusiastically emphasizes to his brother, like a light has gone on, “Yeah, P and P. They go together. P.P.!”
And I ask slyly, “Why are you saying pee pee?”
And they both totally lose it in a fit of appreciative giggles.