Sometimes it is Best to Leave the kids at Home

Scene: The checkout lane at an area Target

Participants: A Target Employee working the Cash Register, a mother, her child (roughly 5 or 6 years of age), her child's unchecked honesty, and TIP the Bemused Bystander

Target Employee (TE): That'll be 55 dollars and 10 cents.

Child (C): Spastic Colon.

Mother (M): Toby, not now.
(waves hand in front of Toby's mouth)

C (utilizing a classic Head Fake to avoid mother's appendage): Spastic Colon, Spastic Colon, Spa-spa-spa-SPASTIC COLON!!!

Me (T): *snicker*

TE: Fifty Five Ten, please.

C: My daddy has a Spastic CO-CO-CO-COLON!

M: TOBY! Daddy doesn't want you sharing his condition with the world!
(now reaches towards child's neck...potential strangulation silence move?)

C (ducks): CO-Astic Spolon! It makes noises! It's in his butt! SPASTIC COLON!!!

M: Little Mister...when we get home you are going to your room and No Video Games!

T: Spastic rhymes with Fantastic, kiddo.

C (inspired by a stranger): FANTASTICOLON!!!
(starts making what can only be his Impression of his father's Flatulence which reminds me of the late Human Beatbox from the rap trio The Fat Boys)

TE: Fifty Five Ten, please.

M (to Me): You can kindly GO. TO. HELL!

T (heh): The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions...and, presumably, your home is paved with thick sheets of diarrhea, Mrs. Colon.

M (utter shock): ...

C (delighted): SPASTIC FANTASTIC COO-COO-CO-lonny!
(more Fart noises...now more squishy sounding...a suitable soundtrack to this encounter)

TE (exasperated into store phone): Assist needed at Checkout Lane 3.

M: We're leaving. Spastic Colon is incurable and you should NOT make light of it! Toby...you're grounded!
(grabs Toby by the scarf and marches haughtily out of store without purchases)

T (to clerk): Isn't there a song called HOW CAN YOU HEAR A SPASTIC COLON?

TE (pause): No. That's HOW DO YOU HEAL A BROKEN HEART.

T: Ah.