I have an in-joke with my progeny we call “the Fartarsing Competition” which is generally aimed at any kind of road-building activity that’s mostly inactivity designed to impede traffic flow for months on end. You know. Road works.
On our way home from an outing, today, I decided to narrate the local crew allegedly doing something in regards to drainage.
Me: [Bad David Attenborough impression] “We now join the inaction in progress. I see five gentlemen standing around having a gassbag, one fellow wandering around the area of alleged construction and three gentlemen standing around supervising his aimless meanderings. And, yes, there is a gentleman sitting in the shade having a *biscuit*. Excellent fartarsing all around, gentlemen.”
Mayhem: [Perfect Announcer Voice] “And now… Ducks.”
I was laughing so hard my eldest was pleading with me to pull over lest we crash. He had such perfect timing, such a perfect nonsequiteur…
It was art.