Last week, at the stall on Budget Bend, Ava spent two coins on a whoopee cushion.

I would like it on the record that it worked. Once. It worked once, it was magnificent, and I laughed so hard I flew into a bin.

The trouble with a whoopee cushion is that a family learns it. By Wednesday, Louis was checking chairs before he sat down. By Thursday, everybody was checking chairs. By Friday the cushion had to sit on a chair all by itself.

Mum: “Ava, love. I can hear the cushion.”
Ava: “You cannot HEAR a cushion. It is a cushion.”
Mum: “I can hear you carrying it. From three rooms away.”
Ava: “It is STILL FUNNY.”

And it is still funny. To Ava. Ava is the one who bought it, so Ava gets a vote, and I am not going to be the robot who takes it off her.

Which brings us to today, and the same stall, and a small round thing sitting on a card.

HAND BUZZER. TWO COINS.

Ava: “Louis. LOUIS.”
Louis: “It is the cushion again.”

Here is what Ava says about it. She says this about most things. Say it with her, and try to sound as certain as she does.

It is not the same!

Louis: “How is it different?”
Ava: “It goes in your HAND.”
Louis: “The cushion went under a bottom.”
Ava: “Exactly. Different. And you cannot HEAR a hand coming.”

Then the stallholder picked the buzzer up, shook hands with Louis, and the buzzer went off. Louis jumped. Louis has never jumped in his life.

Ava's hands started fizzing and her fingers would not stay still. Somewhere behind her eyes, a plan was already half built.

Mum: “Who is the joke for, love?”
Ava: “EVERYONE. It is for everyone.”

She is going to say it again. She is winding up to it now. Ready?

It is not the same!

So. Two coins, which is all of them. One buzzer. And one family who learned a whoopee cushion in a single day and will learn this one in about half of one.

It is not different. It is, however, extremely tempting, and those are two completely separate things.

Ask the grown-up next to you if they have ever bought something like this. I will wait here.

Tap. Tap. Pause.