Butterfly Mind

Lost Balls

Maturity line graph from "Lost Balls" andreabadgley.com

Last holiday season, when I worked at the Barnes & Noble in Minnesota, a clean-cut 30-something man, about my age, approached me at the information desk.  His short, sandy hair was neatly trimmed, his face freshly shaved, and he wore a grass-green long-sleeved polo, tucked into khaki chinos.  He stepped up to the counter where I stood waiting to help him and said, straight faced, “Yes, I’m looking for a book called ‘Lost Balls.’ “

It had been nine years since I’d worked in the world, having stayed home with our kids until I started this job at the book store.  Though I dressed the part in a pale pink button-down shirt and tailored black slacks, light makeup and petite pearl earrings, I wasn’t accustomed to maintaining professionalism.  I smiled involuntarily, tucked in a giggle, and said, “I’m sorry, did you say ‘Lost Balls?’ “

“Yes,” he said, squinching his eyebrows and looking somewhat perplexed.

I typed it into BookMaster and tried to school my face, the hilarity growing inside of me as I watched the letters, one by one, fill in the search box.  L-O-S-T- -B-A-L-L-S.  The corners of my mouth twitched, and my eyes watered, and the more I tried to remain stoic, the harder it became to contain my Beavis and Butthead reaction.  Huh huh.  He said balls.  I stifled a laugh, but my lips cracked into a sly smile despite myself.

He tilted his head a little, still serious, still knitting his eyebrows.  “It’s about golf balls,” he said.

I looked up from the computer screen, straight into his searching eyes, stretched my mouth into a full grin, and said, “It’s still funny.”

Venn diagram of Intersection of the hilarity of balls, farts, and friends at andreabadgley.com

P.S.    I am in our kids’ elementary school cafeteria, seated in the half moon arrangement of folding chairs as I wait for our son’s 3rd grade concert to begin.  Sitting next to me is a small child – maybe three? – farting up a storm.  He squirms around in his chair, his butt aimed mostly at me, and I suffocate in a noxious cloud of toddler toots while he jabbers on, oblivious to his killing cloud.  It is all I can do not to burst into laughter as I smell this kid’s farts and write about lost balls. (Okay, I did burst into laughter.  The kind that you try to keep in, but still it escapes, through snorts and squeaky giggles.  Our daughter is looking at me weird, head tilted, eyebrows squinched.  Not unlike the man at the book store.)

Venn diagram balls farts subsets at andreabadgley.com andreabadgley.com
P.P.S.    I added the graphs last minute in response to the WordPress Image vs. Text challenge. That last one really has me thinking.  Who is a subset of whom? 

Andrea Badgley

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25 responses to “Lost Balls”

  2. OMG we have had weeks go by when all anyone does at the dinner table is say “balls” and snort milk, or fart and then snort milk. Or some combination of the two. Can you please do a graphic of milk-snorting, saying balls, and farting?

    • You just made my day! Thank you for letting me know. I’ve been walking around my house (alone) laughing at that Venn diagram all day. I’m glad I’m not the only one laughing 🙂

  4. I think that when you stop laughing at bodily functions or words like “balls” or “duty” (heh, heh, doodie), it’s a bad thing. I always think of my gramsbear, who at 80 would still giggle at words like that and remained young at heart until she passed, versus another relative who is 20 years younger than she was and always acted older than my gram’s 80 years.You’re only as young as you feel. I hope to be the old lady at 95 who still will work “that’s what she said” into any conversation.

    In a related note, I’ve got a good fart story for you. We saw Disney’s Tarzan in the movie theater, and right at the dramatic moment when a main character dies and the theater is dead silent except for the occasional sniffle, a kid behind us lets out the world’s loudest fart. The theater was then full of people trying really hard not to laugh and just snuffling and snorting, and as soon as the movie was done, people just sat in their seats, laughing until they cried. To this day, when Tarzan is on tv, I start laughing hysterically right at that dramatic moment.

    • I agree! I almost called the intersection of fart hilarity and balls hilarity “People who have fun,” but I thought it kinder to name it “my friends.” The book store guy probably has fun losing his balls.

      Also, your movie theater fart story is awesome 😀

  16. HAHAHA!! SO FUNNY! I will giggle about this all day…..In my house, nobody can say “balls” with a straight face. Bodily functions are hilarious. Even my dog farts (LOUDLY) and burps…and of course, we all roar with laughter. I can’t dress up in fancy feminine lady-like clothes without feeling like such a LIAR!! No…if I we’re to wear clothing to match the filth in my head, I’d be shopping at spencers……Grose things are funny…and that’s a good thing because if they werent funny, they’d be…GROSE! 😉 As far as I’m concerned, people who don’t laugh at farts and balls are not the kind of people I want to hang out with.
    VERY FUNNY BLOG ANDREA! I love it! :0)