“Tickle Time” at our house is one of Daddy’s favorite events. I hate to be tickled; although fully aware of this fact, my husband refuses to accept it. Therefore I’m forced to come up with any excuse possible, the most common of which being an insistence that I’m in great pain.
My eldest daughter (I say “eldest” because I’m watching Jane Eyre and movies like this always rub off on me), on the other hand, loves pretending to hate tickles, even though she really does love it. And apparently she’s picking up on to her mommy’s tricks.
Just tonight, while enduring a merciless tickle session, she suddenly froze in a peculiar hunched-over position and stared up at her daddy with wide eyes.
“I’m all wet.”
Thinking she’d wet herself from laughing so much, my husband stopped and reached to check her (she was perfectly dry). Realizing he would figure out her ploy, however, she quickly expanded her excuse:
“…My legs are broken.”
Then (on account of her broken limbs), she promptly turned and began awkwardly scuffling away, still hunched over, feet at least shoulder-width apart or more. It was sort of like “Hunchback meets Football Ladder Drills.” It was, in short, ridiculously hilarious.
Naturally, being all wet gives you broken legs, and thus prevents anyone from tickling you.
Seriously, when was the last time you tickled a person with broken legs?