>It was a gift from the bus driver. It looked innocent: a small plastic container with a putty-like substance inside. Then we found out what it, um, did. With a finger or thumb inside, yanked out with a certain technique, Flarp makes (gulp) a farting noise.
Like a good big sister, La Petite showed her brother a few tips for making the noises more, uh, authentic. He practiced (practiced!) and they giggled and laughed and roared as the ‘quality’ of his Flarpiness improved.
I wasn’t so thrilled.
It seemed like whenever it was most irritating, Flarp made its presence known. Not constantly, but as if on cue, just often enough.
If I tried to read a book: Pbbth.
If I put up my feet in the recliner and relax: Pbxzth.
Whenever I finished a goal and took a break: Ppbbthxxb.
When the caffeine was low, and my eyes began to close: Ppbbththxxxbbpbth.
AARGH!!!
Eventually, I stashed it somewhere that Amigo could find it, but wouldn’t think of it very often. After that, he spent more time with his other gifts and the new bunny in the house.
Until my brother came to visit, and the kids taught him to Flarp, too. Darn musician; he has a talent for making the most, er, unique sounds possible. Do you think I’d stay on speaking terms with my sister-in-law if I sent the jar of Flarp home with him?