Last night we ate carnitas, beans, and rice for dinner. It was as delicious as I’m sure anyone who has eaten John’s food will know. We were at the table, waiting for Koko to return so we could move on to dessert. In the lull of conversation, I remembered the childhood rhyme about beans.
“Beans, beans,” I chanted, “they’re good for the heart.” It instantly felt wrong. I knew the rhyme was about flatulence, but those words weren’t landing. I started laughing before I could even get the next line out about “the more you eat,” because in mentally running the rhyme through its conclusion, I knew there was no way it ended, “the more you fart.”
John helped:
Beans, beans!
They’re such a hit!
The more you eat,
The more you…
“STOP!!” I interrupted, tears now streaming down my face from the laughter.
John John was probably regarding us with a pained teenaged expression — how can parents be so embarrassing? Though at 13, I think he’s aware enough to have gotten the joke.
Meanwhile, Koko missed the whole thing — not that she’d have gotten it anyway. A few years ago for mother’s day, her class did a sheet filled with facts about their moms. I think about this pretty often, and still laugh (especially about salad and cocktails), but I’m pretty sure she still would have categorized this episode under “Laughs when: Papa says something I don’t understand.”
