The Philosopher Turns Into a Boy

During family night, my sister's family and I sat in the living room as we laughed and talked over a bowl of popcorn. I asked the Philosopher what he learned in kindergarten. He shrugged me off.

"Did you learn to read?" I teased. "A, the, be, is, an, can....did you learn to read can?"

The Philosopher pretended to ignore me, so I grew more annoying. I began to sing a very silly song I had introduced to him.

"Can you do the can-can? Yes, I can. I can-can. I can do the can-can. Can you do the can-can?" I sang loudly.

The Philosopher perked up. "I can do the can-can," he giggled.

He jumped out of the chair and stood in the middle of the room. We watched attentively as we expected to see a childish version of the French oo-la-la.

Instead, the Philosopher turned around and dropped his trunks as he sang, "I can do the can-can. Yes I can!"

His mother yelped incredulously at the full moon in our living room. After a moment of stunned silence, we all burst into laughter.

"Where did you learn that?!" his mother asked. We certainly are NOT a mooning kind of family. we're the type of family that uses medically correct terminology and believes you should leave the room to pass gas. In fact, "pass gas" is a term that would make my mother wrinkle her nose at its crudeness.

The Philosopher giggled his way back to completely clothed status. "From the song. You know, the Streak."

"Don't look Ethel," he sang. "But it was toooo late. She'd already been mooned!"

My sister just laughed. "Consider that your one free shot, Mr. Streak. From now on, we're censoring content a little more closely."

Oh, Ray Stevens, I thought. How you've done us wrong.