During my morning workout, I felt a familiar feeling wash over me. Familiar not just because I’d felt it before, but because I’d expected it- only not right at that moment. How could anyone expect something like that to happen at a time like that?
Last night, I may have had too much to drink. I don’t say that because I regret it- I don’t! I deserved it! But when you have a bit too much to drink, if you’ve had too much to drink before, you know there can be consequences. Sometimes there’s barf (I didn’t get that), sometimes there’s a raging hangover (Nope! Not me!) and sometimes, there’s what we adults like to call the “beer shits”. It doesn’t matter if you haven’t had beer- all alcohol should have a label that warns of this possibility.
WARNING: MAY CAUSE ANGRY BEER SHITS. DO NOT MOVE OUT OF THE PROXIMITY OF A TOILET FOR 18 HOURS AFTER CONSUMING!
A warning like that would put a serious gas cramp on the alcohol industry, so I guess I can see why they don’t. They should, though.
It was while I was mid Zumba that the gas cramp of the evil beer shits hit me. Since I thought I was a total bad ass, that wasn’t going to stop me! I’d shake my ass right through the urge to poo! No. The only thing shaking my ass did was shake loose a bunch of farts. I felt so sexy. Luckily for me, the only place I exercise (as to not embarrass myself) is at home, and the only witness present to this daily spectacle is my 5 year old. The same 5 year old who thinks it’s funny to sneak up on people, place his butt on them, and fart. The same 5 year old who thinks anything poop related is the most hilarious thing ever. The same 5 year old I GREW INSIDE OF ME AND STILL WIPE HIS ASS- and what does he do as he hears the BRRRRP BRRP BRP I shook loose?
“MOMMY!!!! Why are you FARTING?! I thought girls didn’t HAVE butts!”
Okay- first of all, I did not teach him that! Second of all- WHAT?
“Uh, kid. We have butts. Everyone has a butt.”
“So then why are you FARTING? Is the exercise you’re doing a FART EXERCISE? FARTERCISE?!”
Mortified. I do not Fartercise. But why? No, not why don’t I Fartercise (UGH!)- why is farting in front of my kid embarrassing? Again, I STILL wipe his ass- so what’s the deal? It’s natural, right? Everyone does it! Even us ladies without butts!
Much like the feeling of Beer Shits creeping up on me, another familiarity came over me. It’s something I’ve randomly thought about for YEARS- the one moment, if I could, I’d go back in time and change- the moment farting became embarrassing to me. Most people would go back and say something to a loved one who has now passed, or change some detrimental decision they made in life- but mine is a fart. A single fart.
It must have been about 4th grade. I was just coming out of my tomboy phase. I lived in a small-ish town, and the class sizes at all the local schools were pretty small, as were the classrooms. Close quarters, y’all! I was at that age where I was slightly boy crazy but refused to tell anyone because boys were EW- and also because I towered over them like fucking Bigfoot. I could never like a boy shorter than me! THE HORROR! Which means I could never like any boys, because every damn one of them was a solid 2 inches shorter, which was a huge deal.
One day, we were taking a test. Everyone in this small room was absolutely silent, because if we weren’t, you would have the wrath of the evil teacher rained down on you so hard you’d wish to be sent to the damn principal. OBVIOUSLY, there were no beer shits to worry about, but I needed to fart something fierce. There was no way I was going to let this happen. Have you ever tried holding in a fart that is trying so hard to get out you think you might explode, so in your best attempt to appease it, but not make it known- you try to slowly and silently let it slip?
See, here’s the thing about those plastic school chairs- your sphincter is no match for it. ANY fart against the curvature of one of those chairs is amplified times a billion, so my tiny little squeaker came out loud, and sharp.
I will never forget that sound, or how hot my face burned afterward, or the crucial mistake I made at that second. I looked up. DAMNIT, I LOOKED UP! For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to see if anyone else noticed. In the first millisecond, all I saw were heads down, focusing on their work, and then, the worst. Eye contact. Eye contact with a BOY. Eye contact with a boy who I LIKED. One of those EW short boys. We were the only ones looking up. He knew it wasn’t him who had hermp’ed, so the only logical conclusion he must have made was that it was ME. MEEEEEE! WHY GOD, WHY?! CURSE YOU, COLON! CURSE YOU, SCHOOL CHAIR! CURSE YOU, LIFE!
I never spoke to him again. I bet he’s married with kids and cringes in horror any time one of them lets a fart squeak out. It’s all my fault!!!
That was when everything changed. I went from blasting my family out of the living room with my butt trumpet to swearing I would never EVER fart again. Not where anyone could hear it!
I can’t help but wonder what my life would be like had that fateful fart never slipped past my cheeks. Would my Fartercising this morning have been something I’d be bragging about here in this blog? Would my husband be threatening divorce due to eyeball burning butt fumes?
On second thought, maybe I should be thankful for my mortification at such a young age. No one would have married my nasty ass had I not gotten this shit under control! That room-shaking HERMP might have saved my life!
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