I fart a lot. I know its not always something to be proud of. And no, I wasn't sitting around pondering my manly noises. My wife informed me of the issue, like I didn't already know, and told me to blog about it since I was such an expert. This whole issue of farting is like a lot of other small things that husbands can claim that their wife can't take away from them. I compare it to the home that a man and wife live in. My home can't be taken away from me, but that doesn't mean I get to choose what goes in and out and when. I get very little say on the decor, not a big deal. I don't choose colors very often, candle scents aren't my choice, you know the drill.
Well, my farts are sort of the same. Even though I can't choose how they smell, or how frequently I get to enjoy them (in my case according to my wife is very frequent), they can't be taken away from me. I know by now, any adult male is an expert in this field. Some more than others. Ladies, it's just something that you will have to get used to.
The best thing I can say about it: If we're comfortable enough to fart in front of you, that just means that we are open to share things with you. Think of it as our sensitive side, and we are sharing feelings with you...even if those feelings are just bloating, and then relief.
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4 comments:
OH MY GAWD. This is too much.
So...are you a fart smeller or a smart feller?
So...as I was saying...I have been out of town all week with my precious husband and daughter. On Monday, PH left the hotel room with his book & announced that he was going downstairs in the hotel to use the public restroom. Well..we all know what that means.
Daughter & I were ready to go out to dinner and went looking for PH. No PH in the lobby. So...I went over to the door of the restroom and it was unlocked. And I opened it. I almost passed out. I looked at my daughter and said "Yep, PH has been in here."
I had purchased spray at the beginning of the trip just for this purpose. & the next time that he picked up his book and trotted down to the lobby, I made him take the bottle of spray with him and tuck it into the front pocket of his jeans. And he did.
Not to be *indelicate* but farting does not belong to man alone. Tho I concede, men are better at it. And much more matter of fact.
But there are times when I'm glad I live alone -- beyond the 'thank you for coming by, you can go home now' answer to shall I stay or shall I leave...
I digress. I mean I really thought an inspired dinner one evening was to indulge my craving for sardines (go ahead and puke if you want to, I like sardines)-- but aiming for a balanced meal, I needed something green (besides the celery stalks that I put my yummy little sardines mashed with lemon on). So I decided to steam some broccoli. Need I say more?
Not even refried beans could produce such a symphony.
But if anyone want the secret to 'degassing' beans, just ask.
You probably need more enzymes. Yeah I know you don't care.
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