Friday, July 10, 2009

Paul Snar Schork

during my pre-school years both of my parents worked. five days a week my father would drop me off at my grandparents farm where i experienced an informal education that would shape the rest of my life. there are many, many stories about this life to share, but here is one of my favorites. i still wonder to this day if the ending to this exchange between myself and my grandfather was spontaneous or well planned, and him patiently waiting for me to give him the opportunity.

on more than a few occasions my grandfather was known to audibly pass some gas. followed by

"What'd you say, gigi?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Sounded like your voice."

i was never quick enough to the punch. until one day...

a little thundering gas.

"What'd you say, grandpa?" finally, i had him.
"I didn't say anything."
"Sounded like your voice." i did it! I got him. and i vowed to never be beaten again. and then...
"Smells like your breath."

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