That’s what Twister looks and smells like if you play with my hubby. Our youngest dug out the game and convinced the hubs and older brother to play while I had the token honor of spinning the spinner…score! The game began pretty benign with the usual “Left hand green” or “Right foot yellow” ordeal followed by a grunt, sigh or groan. There were giggles as the boys intertwined body parts and eventually fell in a heap. They played many games of Twister and at one point Josh’s face was in close proximity to hubs rear end. With a silent chuckle hubs saw an opportunity to win and put an end to the never-ending Twister. The hubby let a long, loud, foul-smelling wind storm rip! My older son almost loss consciousness as he quickly tried to pull his tee-shirt over his nose. His eyes began to tear but he would not give in and admit defeat. Like a true Twister champ, he stayed in place and weathered the current storm as well as the many to follow. The youngest, on the other hand, saved himself and bailed from the area with wails of protest!!
I sat (far enough away) and laughed at the father and son(s) — eventually the youngest decided to rejoin the male clan — man style bonding. Those images will never be far from my mind and unfortunately, neither will the smell!