You imagine the worst possible scenarios: You’re making out and it’s getting hot and heavy. Clothes are starting to shed, and things are about to happen, when out of nowhere you get that feeling. Your stomach tightens up, you hear a little gurgle, and in that moment you know, you have to let one go. You squeeze and squeeze, trying to keep it in, but your best effort to stop it is futile, and a quiet little squeak sneaks out. “Oh God”, you think to yourself, “Did they hear that?” You start sweating, thinking back to that burrito you had at lunch. You don’t want to ruin the moment, so you try to block it out, but you just can’t help imagining that invisible gas that is slowly filling the air around you. As they start kissing down your stomach, you start praying to God it doesn’t smell. Its pure torture as you wait, one minute, then two, then three minutes go by. You don’t smell anything, but do they? Finally at about the 4 minute point you feel confident that your little slip has gone undetected and continue on your way. You dodged a bullet that time, but it will happen again.
It’s inevitable that with time in a relationship, one of you are going to break that seal. It could be anywhere. We all hope that fateful moment is not at the dinner table when they meet your parents, but hey, things happen. We convince ourselves that the key is to keep them from sharing that embarrassing moment with you, for as long as possible. Let’s face it though, in reality that’s can be a painful thing to do. You wake up in the morning with that inevitable urge, your partner sleeping next to you and you fight it back. Then comes another and you fight that back to, and by three or four attempts your stomach is in knots. You stare at the bedroom door, planning your escape, but she’s cuddled up in your arms. You don’t want to wake her, so you suffer through it. Finally she gets up to pee, and as soon as you hear the bathroom door shut, you let loose the dogs of war. You have to be honest, in that moment, farting is the greatest feeling in the world.
I like the rest of us, I was the same way with my girlfriend. I unfortunately have a bit of a flatulence problem, and more often than not, they don’t smell nice. The way my girlfriend is about her own bodily functions, only made it that much worse. She’s that girl that likes to pretend she farts rainbows and poops diamonds, and swears I’ll never witness her do it. We’ve all dated a few of those. Well, in a new relationship, your first reaction to that, is that she’s going to be grossed out if YOU do it. That being said, when she would stay over, I would go out of my way not to fart in front of her. My laundry room became my special place to hide when I needed to do it, because she never went in there (Thankfully dryers are sealed). I mean God forbid I did it in my room, and it lingered. If she unknowingly walked into a gas chamber, that would just be awful.
So we’d be watching tv just cuddling on the couch, and I’d feel one coming. I’d make up an excuse and quietly sneak off, and into the laundry room I’d go. Thankfully the laundry rooms upstairs, so she just thought I was doing something in my room (I did a lot of things in my room apparently). In the mornings, I’d wait until she got up to go to the bathroom and just like the rest of you, as soon as I heard the door shut, I would pull the covers up tight around me and let it go, hoping she’d stay in their long enough for the smell to go away. This was all well and good, until the day one caught me off guard.
We were just finishing up our regular 6 a.m. routine. Since she took longer in the morning getting ready, she would shower and do her girl thing, while I made us coffee and breakfast, then I’d run upstairs and get ready myself. We finished up and had come downstairs together. She was munching on some toast and looking at her phone, while I poured our coffee. Out of nowhere, like a thief in the night, I got that urge. It didn’t feel like too much pressure, so thinking it was going to be a quiet one, I just let it out. Well, needless to say, my back end had pulled a fast one on me. Instead of a silent little breathe of wind, this thing came out with a fury. I kid you not, it literally sounded like the roar of an African lion. Mid bite into her toast, her eyes shot up at me, and I went white. Expecting some sort of horribly negative, and grossed out reaction, I did the only thing I could think of, and with a surprised look on my face just said “What happened?” I don’t know what in my right mind possessed me to think “What Happened?” was an appropriate reaction, given the volume level of that fart, but in my state of panic, I figured better that, then admit to it.
The next one or two seconds were dead silence, me quietly dreading her response to my lack of manners, and her just staring at me, that half-eaten toast just dangling in her fingers, then it happened. She started laughing. Not just some little nervous giggle, but a belly laugh so hard she started to tear up. For like 30 seconds she just stood there and laughed at me. I was shocked. She had defied my expectations. This woman, who refused to let me believe she went number two, was now all-out cracking up in front of me over a fart, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. No negative or harsh reaction, no scolding, just laughing at me, like it was the funniest thing ever, and I was perfectly okay with that. A boundary was crossed and no prisoners were taken, and our comfort level with each other, rose just a little bit more.
She later told me she thought it was funny the way I tried to act like it didn’t happen. She then told me she was used to it, because her dad and brothers fart in front of her all the time. Maybe a woman with brothers, is the exception to the rule in this case, or maybe for us MILLENNIALS it’s just not a big thing. Either way her reaction was perfect. She still swears up and down she’ll never do that in front of me, and I try not to make it a habit of doing it in front of her. I do so, more for manners sake than the fear of her reaction if I do. I’ll admit that every now and then, I’ll feel one coming while she’s with me, and instead of holding it in, I’ll push it out, just so I can see and hear that adorable laugh again. The way she reacts to that moment, reminds me that she accepts me as I am, and makes me love her even more. Yes, farting is gross at times, and the smell can just make it worse, but the fact is we all do it. So when that moment comes with the person you’re with, no matter your personal views on farting, or where you are, accept it. It happens. Don’t scold them, or make them feel embarrassed, and don’t make it a big deal. Just laugh, because let’s face it, whether your five years old or 40, farting is funny to most of us.
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