Shampoo. Shampoooooo. Shampoo…..
OK I’ll stop.
There are other words that fit this description but none have ever made me giggle as much until yesterday when my kids introduced me to the fun of repeatedly saying another one:
It started off as a normal afternoon as I picked Xavier up from school with Ashe and Soren. After he launched himself into the rebel van Ashe, desperately trying to get his older brothers attention yelled “HEY ZAVI! I GOT A WOOKIEE!!!” Xavier turned around and looking at Ashes action figure of Chewbacca yelled in horror
“ASHE! YOUR WOOKIEE IS BROKEN!”
“MY WOOKIEE IS NOT BROKEN!”
“Uh, yeah, your Wookiee is missing a leg.” I looked in the rearview mirror as I waited in line and watched his mouth drop in horror.
“OH NO!!!! MY WOOKIEE IS MISSING A LEG! MOM! MY WOOKIEE’S LEG IS BROKEN!”
“I can fix your Wookiees leg, Ashe” Xavier offered.
A moment of fumbling around and I hear “OK Your Wookie is good now.”
“YAY! YOU SAVED MY WOOKIEE! HEY, WANNA HOLD MY WOOKIEE?”
And at that point, I lost it. I mean seriously, I think I did a good job holding it in until then. I showed restraint of a saint. But when Ashe asked if Xavier wanted to hold his wookiee it was just too much for me. I burst out laughing. And behind me I hear Soren start laughing too, which makes me laugh harder. And then the boys join in and the 4 of us are just cracking up.
For the 10 minute car ride home Xavier and Ashe tried to outdo each other using the word Wookiee. And every time I would burst out laughing. This kept Soren belly laughing behind me, thus causing this never ending cycle of laughter, a few snorts, and tears rolling down my eyes. Juvenile? You betcha! It was awesome.
Wookiee. Woooookieee. Wookiee.