Flatulence

The title says it all.  If you are somewhat squeamish or too prissy for this sort of talk, I suggest you stop now because this entire post is full of stinky, smelly words. 

We have a problem in our house.  Maybe this is an epidemic in Canada? Maybe the world, who knows.   All I know is that sometime in our history as a family it became funny and dare I say, entertaining, to fart out loud and often.   I blame my husband.  He’s not reading this and he’s not home so he cannot defend himself so that is why this is the perfect time to throw him under the bus!

Why is it that when you are dating a man, his hygiene and manners are impecable but 2 days after the wedding some foul-smelling habits become all too familiar?   Why???  

I remember one of the first times he “let one” sneak out~ I was completely caught off guard.  In my house(a house with mom and 3 girls) that would NEVER be acceptable.  You excuse yourself, you go to the washroom and you DEAL with it quietly and privately.  Nope, not guys.  Anytime, anywhere~ it’s all fair game.   And that word “fart”~ where exactly did that come from? My mother still considers it a swear word and we have to say “fluff” which I believe is not much better. 

So, early on in my marriage I realized that there was something very wrong.  How can someone possibly have that much build up in their system?? And have you seen my husband?  He’s not a big guy so where exactly is he holding it? 

And let me clarify, these are not tiny little “burps”, these are full-on rumbling, broken-muffler, gaseous rants!  And they’re ALWAYS followed by a lot of laughter on his part and a scowl from me.    And then comes the apology, “Oh sorry honey, I don’t know where that came from.  It must have been something I ate today.”  Or here’s my personal favourite and the default argument, ” I’m just having a bad day today; it’s only today, I’ll be better tomorrow.”   But as that old saying goes TOMORROW NEVER COMES.   You see, someone who has bad flatulence actually just has a bad habit.  Try telling this to a stubborn prairie farm boy who grew up in a house of boys! 

Fast forward 18 years.   I’m so used to it, but so tired of it.  I get into bed, he rolls over….*fart*.    I say goodnight, he kisses me…*fart*.   We sit down to dinner, we barely get to second course….*fart*.  Oh, and not only him but now my son.  He’s been on the band wagon most of his life too.  As a little boy, when Daddy did something funny like belch or fart at the table, mommy might have been mortified but little sonny boy laughed and when the boy laughs, the dad laughs and then he lets ‘er rip again.  Add 3 girls who giggle at everything and we have our own comedic sideshow at EVERY meal.  Over the years I have tried various methods to stop the madness!  I have threatened, I have bribed, I have cried and I have offered some counselling.  None of it helps.    Last night, we hit our all time low.   Leroy is gone and so it was me and the kids around the supper table.  At the end of the meal,  Lyndon started that whole leaning thing.  You know what I’m talking about; when someone’s feeling the pressure they need to release it.   I started to say , “no, no , no you don’t” but it was too late and the roar was brutal!  Then little missy to my left joined the chorus and hers was almost worse!  I told Lyndon to stop(and then the 2nd one came out) and we went into a conversation about appropriate table manners.   Here is what he said, forever ingrained in my memory and I am now humiliated for life. “Mom, farts are a natural part of life;  farts are just poop that’s airy.”

I’m done. I give up.

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