Archive for January, 2018

the fartless wonder…

Posted in Life with tags , , , , , on January 12, 2018 by fromthenuthousewithlove

Recently I’ve been seeing a lot of posts about farting in relationships, and so I thought I would share my story.
Before anything else, I need to share with you an experience from my childhood. It was December of 1987, I was 9 years old and the whole school was gathered in the gym to watch the choir sing Christmas carols. It was really annoying for 2 reasons, the first was we had to listen to amateurs sing songs that none of us were interested in, except for Frosty the Snowman and Jingle Bells. The second was they didn’t even give enough of a shit to provide chairs for us, so we had to sit on the cold ass gym floor, for 4 fucking hours! Needless to say, we got super restless, and instead of singing along, we all chit chatted amongst ourselves or threw ourselves on the floor dramatically, and then pretended to make snow angels.
At that age, I didn’t really have BFF’s or anything. I was just friendly with everyone but didn’t belong to a specific group. I liked it that way. Anyway the choir was singing away, it was a song I was not really familiar with, but I was sitting on my knees bopping up and down to the music, trying desperately to get into it so that I could stop being bored, when it happened. A fart had accidentally fallen out of my bum, right when the music stopped playing. This was the first time that had ever happened to me, I didn’t feel a fart coming, it just zapped out of my butthole like lightning. Of course EVERYONE turned around looking to see if they could find the disgraceful piece of shit that completely emptied the room of any Christmas spirit that was there. It was at that moment that I realized no one knew it was me. My crisis was averted! No panic was necessary, however I felt I needed to blend in with the others, so I began to look around, pretending to scout out the culprit, to keep up the façade.
I looked to my right, adjusting the expression on my face to match the others, and I looked to my left…and right there…a hand, with a finger pointing right at me, behind it was one of my classmates, with her shirt pulled up over her nose. A feeling of terror began to rise up within me, as I repeated in my mind “please, don’t say it, please don’t say it…” She pulled down her shirt and screamed “SHE FARTED!!!!!” and then everyone’s eyes were on me. I don’t know how many shades of red exist in the colour spectrum, but I can assure you I went through each and every one of them. Everyone laughed, and pointed. I of course did my best to deny it, I even went to the extreme of saying I was making fake fart noises with my mouth. No one bought it.
The tragedy that took place that day, set a new tone in my life. From that day I vowed I would never again have an accident, I would become a fartless wonder. People would see me and wonder “Is she even human?”.  Years passed, and relationships come and gone, and in each of those relationships that have gone, I am proud to say that not once did I fart in the presence of another person. I even made a deal with my boyfriend when we first started dating, that we never fart in front of each other, because I was so traumatized from the unfortunate incident of ’87.
A few months ago we were on our way back from walking the dogs, him with Odin in tow, and myself with Luna. We entered through the back of the building and walked down the long hallway in the basement. I had a quick burst of energy that evening, and so I decided to race him to the elevator. Racing my boyfriend usually consists of me running as fast as I can until I get tired, or reach a checkpoint (in this scenario the checkpoint was the elevator), and my boyfriend basically just walks at his regular pace. I always end up winning, and he always ends up claiming that he wasn’t racing, but it sounds so me like he just can’t accept that I always win.
I am unsure of exactly how the event that unfolded took place, all I remember is that while I was waiting for Mr. Slowpoke to catch up, there was this incredibly loud eruption, it sounded like when you move a chair that you’re too lazy to lift so you kind of half drag it, and it ends up sounding like an injured Goose, but much deeper, and more amplified because apparently the acoustics in the basement of my building are incredible. The sound sent shockwaves down the hall and echoed it’s way down to the other end, to this day my boyfriend swears he saw and felt the floor move in the form of a wave. If that wasn’t bad enough, I heard voiced coming from the inside of people’s apartments saying “what the FUCK was that?!?” while my boyfriend was convulsing in laughter on the floor.
For a brief moment I felt like I was 9 years old again, a part of me wanted to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich, because not only did I fart in front of my boyfriend for the very first time in the 5 years we’ve been together, but it had rippling effects that were felt by pretty much anyone that was within a 50 foot radius. The other part of me started laughing for that exact reason.
So, as much as I’m sad to report that I can no longer walk proudly as the fartless wonder, and the fart seal in our relationship has most definitely been broken, at least I can say the way it was broken was pretty freaking epic.