Week 107: Aqua King

"Boudreaux! Boudreaux! Machine Number 6 is broken again!"

I look up from the couch. I'm tired. Seriously.

"Not now, guys," I mumble.

"No, no, talk like Boudreaux! Come on Daddy, be Boudreaux!"

My youngest kids, ages 5 and 3, are both shouting over each other about Boudreaux and Machine Number 6. They are jumping up and down with excitement. Literally. Feet above the carpet jumping.

I realize they will not stop until I play and will simply continue to call me Boudreaux, and while my heart isn't in it, I start using the accent, an abomination between  fake French and video-game character Mario.

"Oh, no, Machine 6, eet is such a piece of junk, maybe Boudreaux should buy a new one, eh? What do you think? Ees it worth a fixing, or should we shop for new machine?"

"Boudreaux, I called in the fix-it man," says the five year old seriously. "He says he's fixed it right this time so it won't break again."

"Okay, I trust you, my friend, but eef Machine 6 breaks one more time, we reely need to get rid of it -- so many problems, no?"

And on it goes.

Who is Boudreaux?

There is a diaper rash cream called Boudreaux's Butt Paste, and once when the youngest had a painful rash I created the Boudreaux character to distract him -- my son and I called out "Boudreaux! Boudreaux!" to get his help.

From those beginnings, Boudreaux as a character developed and the mythos became more solid. My sons work in the Butt Paste factory fulfilling orders, fixing machines and running the lines. We have two truck drivers, hot-headed Tony and Christine. There have been two diabolical owners of the plant, Franco, who went on to open a different factory and who once got into it with Tony, and now Bob. 

Believe it or not, the game has none of the potty humor you would expect from something called Butt Paste, but instead takes the stance of making a beloved product that both kids proudly stand behind.

Man, it's a weird game, all the more so because it has become so detailed and consistent. 

Sometimes I think I'm actually working in the Butt Paste factory.

And as jobs go, I suppose this is one of the best.

An actual letter from my son to Beaudreux -- I gave him the wrong spelling
by accident. You'd think a successful businessman such as me would remember
how to spell his own name, but
Beuadreaux, he has no time for spelling names when he has
a factory of Butt Paste to run!  Even Beaudreux, he makes mistakes.
That is life, no?

I snapped the photo of the awesome bottle truck from Matchbox, part of their 2012 City collection. As much as I wanted, I was unable to find a Butt Paste truck, but this will be close enough.