Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Walter the Farting Dog

My little Lucas is like any other three-year-old boy. He loves trucks, cars and trains. He has no qualms about getting dirty, even if that means making "mud angels" because we don't get snow.
And he thinks flatulence is really, really funny.

I've been around enough kids to know this is just a phase, but because I've never planned to encourage or prolong Lucas' fascination with bodily functions, I've carefully avoided the shelves on the bookstore containing a certain book called "Walter the Farting Dog." Apparently, most parents do not. It's a best seller, as are the sequels, Walter the Farting Dog: Trouble at the Yard Sale," and "Rough Weather Ahead for Walter the Farting Dog."

So you can only imagine how thrilled I was when - on our last trip to the bookstore - Lucas discovered a stuffed Walter the Farting Dog that makes realistic farting noise when you squeeze it. He's seen fireworks and airplanes and elaborate model trains at the railroad museum. But never had anything put Lucas in such a sheer state of bliss as a dog that makes farting noises when you squeeze it. He was in love, and it soon became clear that he could not bear separation from his new farting friend.

That was on Friday and all the next day, we endured a cycle of farting noises and hysterical giggles as Lucas' aimed Walter's flatulent behind at the cat, the dog, his sister, the horses. Walter farted in Lucas' glass of juice, into the telephone when grandma called and into a microphone, to amplify the glorious effect.

I won't even attempt to convey the depths of Lucas' sadness when, on Sunday, Walter inexplicably lost his ability to fart.

Now, the only thing more embarrassing than buying a farting dog is returning it because it won’t fart. But that became my appointed task early Monday, when I drove the bookstore and explained the situation to the clerk. Because it’s a good bookstore, and because I’m probably their best customer, I was apologetically directed to the children’s section and told to select another farting dog.

They were on the bottom shelf. There were four Walters left and I wanted to make sure I selected the one that would best meet Lucas' high emission standards. So, bending over, I began to test them. They were loud, so loud in fact that I almost missed the snickers and whispers coming from the aisle behind me. I turned to see a group of shoppers, gaping in amused shock at a woman who appeared to be bent over and farting with abandon.

Grabbing my chosen dog, I stood, marched over to them, held it aloft and squeezed as the toy emitted an especially dramatic fart. “It wasn’t me,” I icily declared and walked away, enjoying their stunned silence almost as much as my 3-year-old later enjoyed the sounds emitted by his new Walter.

I've heard of people blaming it on the dog but, damnit, I had proof.


Anonymous said...

That's one of the funniest stories I've ever read. And your little boy looks like an imp. How did you get him to make that face?

Morgan said...

Thanks. ;-)
I hope this farting dog holds up; I'm not sure I can stand the humilation of replacing it if it doesn't.
I didn't do anything special when I took Lucas' picture. He's is an imp, and he looks like that all the time. Except when he's asleep. Then he looks like a little angel.

Beth said...


you're so awesome.

I got a "burping pig" when I was his age. My mom bought it for me and I still have it -- still burps, too. It makes for hours of endless fun for me, and hours of endless annoyance for my husband :)

Shrubbery said...

Holy shit, Morg, that was classic. Vicarious public embarassment via the little tykes.

Shrubbery said...

True story...

When I was two my mom took me to a fairly exclusive Denver restaurant with a friend of hers. In the middle of the meal I asked if I could go to the bathroom. My mom said OK but insisted that I was a big boy and could handle this on my own. It was '73 so you could let your kids go to the bathroom at public places. Several minutes later a hush falls over the restaurant and my mom's friend groans, "Oh my God." A few seconds later here comes lil' Shrub, pants around his ankles, wad of toilet paper in hand, and says in that ever so subtle two year old voice, "Mommy, will you wipe me?" My poor mother never went back to that restaurant again I ashure you.

El Borak said...

...and don't be so sure that it's just a phase he'll grow out of. My dad is still a master of dropping one and then saying, "Hey, there's a phone call for you over by the chair."

Billy D said...

Hah! A guy I work with likes to drop and run. He'll do it, then tell someone he left something for them over in that area. It's awesome when they walk over and get hit with it.

Mia said...


Not to disappoint your hopes BUT, my sons (ages 13 & 8)have stayed in the "flatulence appreciation stage" WAY TOO LONG!

I remember one particular road trip when my older son was about 4 yrs old and every other word was poopy-butthead. I decided to try a little experiment and declared it Poopy Day, using all the poop words for adjectives, etc. Needless to say, it backfired (pun intended) - I think it was my son's favorite day, ever!


Morgan said...

I logged in this morning to read the responses and afterwards have to say that my hopes that Lucas' Fart Appreciation Phase will end have diminished in a puff of...something.

But the stories you guys have me near hysterical with laughter.

Beth, Walter should only last so long as your belching pig. ;-)

Shrub, your poor mother. That's too funny. I would have loved to have seen her face.

El Borak: "Phone call for you on the chair?" I've not heard that one but your dad sounds like he has a wonderfully twisted sense of humor. And gas.

Billy D, we had a guy at work who would do that. We learned to watch his cues. If he looked down and walked away, we all scattered because we knew he'd just cut one.

Mia, that is a great story. But I can see how it could backfire. Right now every day is Poopy Day for Lucas, but if we designate a day to celebrate all things poopy, I have no doubt that he will be in absolute raptures over it.
He just discovered combining things with the word "head." Yesterday he called his sister a "raptorhead." I have no idea where that came from....

You guys all gave me a great morning laugh. Thanks!

courtney said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

The phase in all probability will not pass. My 24 year old daughter, who is, horrifyingly, in law school, still thinks farting is the funniest thing on the planet. When she was ten, she told her grandmother she was going to attend "The University of Flatulence" when she was old enough. "It was," she elaborated, "in Michigan."

At least U of F did not have a law shcool...

Morgan said...

"It was," she elaborated, "in Michigan."

ROFL...I know where Lucas is going to go to school...

steve said...

oh god, that's funny. "farting with abandon". i'm sitting in my office laughing hysterically and, as people walk by and peak in, they know i'm doing nothing i'm paid for as my job is not funny, or fun, at all.