The Password

Yesterday, I needed to go down to the basement to get something.  I went to the door, and found my son blocking it.

"Excuse me, Bubba," I said.  "I have to go downstairs."

He shook his head.  "First you have to tell me the password."

The password?  I took a wild guess.  "Please?"

"No, Mama.  That's not it."

I really didn't have time for this game, but since I'm fairly good-natured, I played along.  "All right.  Give me a clue."

"It's a Pokemon."

"Dude," I said.  "There are hundreds of Pokemon!  There's no way I'm going to stand here and try to figure out which one!"

"Okay," Bubba said.  "I'll help you out. I'll give you the first part, and you have to figure out the rest. Snor."

I took a deep breath, a proceeded to add every letter of the alphabet onto the end:  Snora, Snorb, Snorc, Snord, Snore, Snorf . . . I finally made it to Snorz.

Bubba shook his head when I was done. "No, Mama.  You didn't get it,"

"Are you kidding?"  I was a little perturbed.  "I named every possibility!"

"Mama, you forgot to add the 'la' after 'Snor.'  The answer was 'Snorlax.'"

Ugh!

(Next time I need to get past Bubba, I'm going to bring Snorlax along, and have him sit on the boy!)