For an elderly couple, bedtime wasn’t just about rest — it was game time. Their nights often featured a lighthearted contest they fondly called “fart football.”
As they settled beneath the blankets one evening, the husband suddenly shattered the quiet with a thunderous blast. Grinning proudly, he declared, “Seven points!” It was all part of their quirky little game — a mix of laughter, love, and unmistakable sound effects.
With a cheeky smirk, he explained, “It’s fart football, honey.”
Not one to be outdone, a short while later, the wife joined in with her own triumphant sound. Laughing, she declared, “Touchdown — tie game!”
The friendly competition heated up quickly. The husband answered back with another booming score. “Aha! Fourteen to seven! I’m winning,” he crowed.
But his wife wasn’t ready to concede. She struck again, evening the score, then added with mock elegance, “Field goal! I’m in the lead — seventeen to fourteen.”
The old man, now feeling the pressure, refused to be beaten. Determined to reclaim victory, he gave it his all… a bit too much, in fact. The result was an unmistakable accident that left him wide-eyed and red-faced.
His wife, both amused and slightly horrified, asked through her laughter, “What on earth just happened?”
Wiping his brow, he grinned sheepishly and replied, “Half time — time to switch sides.”
The laughter that followed filled the room, proving once again that love — and humor — only get better with age.
A Holiday Surprise
Switching gears from fart football to festive trickery, another tale of quick wit involves a father who found a clever way to reunite his grown-up children for the holidays.
One December afternoon, he called his son and, with a sigh, said, “Son, I hate to tell you this, but your mother and I are getting divorced. I can’t stand the sight of her anymore.”
Shocked, the son blurted out, “Dad, what are you talking about?”
“I’m tired of arguing,” the father said firmly. “Call your sister and tell her.” Then he hung up.
Within minutes, the son called his sister, panicking. She refused to believe it. “Like hell they’re getting divorced!” she snapped, immediately dialing her father.
When he picked up, she shouted, “Don’t do anything! We’re flying home tomorrow. No lawyers, no paperwork — we’re sorting this out in person!” Then she slammed the phone down.
The father smiled, turned to his wife, and said proudly, “Okay, they’re both coming for Christmas — and they’re paying their own airfares.”
Ingenious, wasn’t it? Sometimes, it just takes a little mischief to bring the family home for the holidays.
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