I hope you’re not reading this while eating. If you are, you might want to wait a bit. It gets rather rude.
A few weeks ago, we were sitting at the dinner table when I burped. It was a little thing that just kind of urped out of me. The kids, however, thought it was hilarious. They both started laughing and making little “urp” noises. The cry of “Do it again! Do it again!” was quickly taken up.
I’m not a good belcher. It’s just one of those talents that I’ve never nurtured. In particular, I don’t know how to belch on command. I had to plead inability. “Sorry, guys. I can’t make myself do it.”
Just as they were saying “Aawwww… man!” J piped up with a quiet little “Actually, I can.”
“Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it!” I think I might have joined them .
J was grinning ear to ear, and looking a little sheepish. “I don’t know why I learned this, and I probably shouldn’t. It’s not something you do at the table – “
“Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it!”
“Okay, okay!” And she let out a big old nasty belch. What can I say? Even after ten years of marriage, she still surprises me.
The kids loved it. They laughed and immediately started shouting for more. She tried to protest that she couldn’t do it too many times, and C immediately shouted “Five Times! Do it Five Times!”
“Okay, five times.” She said, and then did it, pushing out the belches one after another while the kids shouted out the countdown. By the end, however, she was blushing furiously. She looked over the table at me. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
The next day at dinner, of course, the kids remembered the burping. They asked me first, for some reason, but I reminded them that I just don’t know how and suggested that ”maybe mommy can?”
Really, what else did she expect? I mean, when you show a talent like that, you have to expect to be asked for performances. Apparently, she disagreed: “No.”
We had a little back and forth, with us trying to convince her, but she was steadfast in her desire to be a stick in the mud – er, I mean “to not belch like a trained seal”.
Finally, N couldn’t take it any more. “I’ll do it!” he said.
This stopped us. “What?”
“Yep. 20 times.” He said with a definitive nod.
He tilted his head back, closed his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, squinted his eyes, and then let a little air escape from his mouth, making a little whooshing noise. When it came out, he opened one eye to peek at his momma and see what she thought. She immediately said “hooray!” His brother, unfortunately, called out “1!” – sentencing the little guy to 20 of the things.
I want to go on record here as saying that I’m not specifically planning to have the boys ask momma to belch the next time we’re out at dinner with friends.
However, I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen.