little quackers
i have 5-year-old twin nephews, who i sometimes look after. often, i'll take them to the park to play on the swings.
one such occasion was the day after a large curry and i was a little windy, to say the least. i felt the pressure building in my trousery regions and, judging the twins to be out of earshot, i let loose what i hoped would be a fairly quiet puff of gas.
it wasn't.
with an almighty BRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAPPP!!, my arse almost turned the air green(and possibly chewable). this, of course, caused much merriment for my nephews. "you farted!" they shouted, with childish delight. "no, that wasn't a fart," i replied, "that was the duck that lives in my pants. it was quacking." more laughter ensued. i was called duckpants for the rest of the day.

several weeks later, my sister asked me to pick the kids up from school, which i did. to my surprise, they ran out of the classroom towards me, then ran behind me, put their faces right by my arse and said "hello!", much to the bemusement of the waiting parents.
"boys, what are you doing?" their puzzled teacher asked. "we're saying hello to the duck that lives in her pants!"
i dread to think what that teacher thinks of me!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 24 May 2013, 14:02, Reply)