He stands next to me, running on the spot, changing “Ee me mee!” over and over again. It’s his best joke, Excuse me as spoken by a sixteen month old. He started out saying it only when he wanted to get by or when he’d passed gas, but somewhere along the line he realized it was funny all by itself.
I’m feeling grumpy, still in a little pain from Saturday. “I’m not going to laugh,” I tell him. But before I can finish the “fff” sound in “laugh” I realize I already am laughing.
How can I not? It’s his best joke. And it’s aimed squarely at me.
