Brother Fart

With the new year, Mr. M got to move up to the next class in primary. Exciting thing! After church we asked him how it went. He said fine; he liked it. He said he couldn't remember his teacher's name, so we reminded him. And that was that.

Well tonight while cleaning the kitchen, this happened:

M: "Hey mom, want to hear something funny that happened at church today?" 

Me: "Sure."

M: "So in class, I couldn't remember my teacher's name," he says casually, "so I called him Bro. Fart." 

Me: Muffled snorting as I try to contain myself from laughing out loud hysterically. (Something on his face told me he knew his teacher's name wasn't "Bro. Fart" when he called him that...) "Hmm, I see." More muffled noises as I try to regain my composure, "I'm glad you remember now. We probably don't want to call him that anymore. He probably doesn't like being called that, ya think?" 

M says with a smile on his face, "Yeah, probably not. I remember his name now." After a few seconds, "Everybody laughed."

Me, smiling: "Oh, well let's remember to call him by his real name." 


Bro. Farley, my apologies. Hopefully he does remember your name from now on!