Go Ahead and Jump!

Grunting, squirming, grunting again, the dancer, a little man with little hair, leans left, leans right, then levitates skyward to Van Halen’s Jump.

His squinched face, oval mouth, pursed lips, squinting eyes—suddenly eyes open wide. From his diaper erupts a high-pitched tooting.

I lower him to my lap and look down at his now-peaceful face.

The gas passed.

Not bad, Granddad!