On Saturday Marty's Aunt Mary arrived at our house bearing gifts for the kids - real treasures, things that if they'd known they existed, they would have been begging for them every day. 

For Sophie: pom poms and plastic pink high heels.  It's a gift that keeps on giving.  We can all watch her sashay around the house in her heels, and we are cheered on to victory for even the simplest of every day tasks.  Brush your teeth!  Yay!  Make my lunch!  Yay!


For Martin: a whoopee cushion.  He pulled it out of the bag and tossed it aside, not knowing what it was.  I filled it with air and invited him to have a seat on the chair next to me.  He looked at me warily, and said that he'd have a seat.  He eased into the chair, me slipping the cushion underneath him before his buns hit the seat.  The result?  Pure joy.  "IT'S GAS!  DO IT AGAIN!" He laughed so hard which made me laugh harder than I'd ever laughed in my life - I had to check to see if either of us had wet our pants.  I spent the next hour filling and refilling the whoopee cushion with air and pretending to sit on chairs and have explosive gas.  It was awesome.  We used it so much that it broke.  The final explosion of the whoopee cushion dealt us a terrible blow and we had to go out and find a new one.  Unfortunately, all we could come up with was a four-pack of small ones.  We've already exhausted two of them. 

Here's a video of the death of Cushion Two.  Before you watch the video, it's worth noting that although I cannot contain myself, I'm trying not to laugh really loudly as my mouth is right next to the camera.  So, instead of hearing my normal loud laughter, you get a sort of wheezy muffled effect.  It's glamorous.  Also worth noting, I'm a terrible influence on my children.