My mom grew up in a fartless home. Farts were held in until you were alone, and then released quietly. Any accidental gas passing was ignored. To this day, I don’t think she knows if her parents had properly functioning digestive systems. Sad, right?
Luckily, she came out of that okay, and I was raised in a home where at any given time, hearing a loud, "FFFFPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTT" was normal and accepted by any member of the family. It was freeing, and sometimes, entertaining.
Joe and I have been together for almost 6 years, married for 3. Since I was also raised with manners, and because I really liked him and didn’t want him to know I, too, was gaseous, I held my farts like any lady would for awhile after we started dating. Around Date 12, I started burping. Farting would soon follow, or so I thought…
Date 13 came and went. I was okay with passing gas beside my future husband. He had to know the truth sooner or later, right? I stopped consciously holding in farts and waited for the time to come when I would be exposed as a real human being.
Fast forward to yesterday.
I still had not farted in front of him. It’s not that I had been trying not to… ever since Date 13 I didn’t care at all whether I let one slip or not. I mean really, he saw me POOP on the delivery table! But for whatever reason, my subconscious kept them in when he was around.
I was in the kitchen, making my self an enormous bowl of ice cream. My brother and Joe were playing Xbox in the living room. And then…
This image has nothing to do with this post and is being used for visual reference. It is the only image of my backside I could find. Pay no attention to what is taking place in this image, because I have no idea.
It had happened.
“Uhhh… did you just… FART ?” Joe asked.
He still loves me.
So… what is YOUR gas passing protocol?