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Monday, 28 March 2011

WIND


Wind. By wind I mean farts, bottom burps, an air attack, a bum and flutter, a chunder, an SBD. I have a big list. The problem is this. I fart. Every morning soon after waking I fart. Very loudly. I can't help it. It's something I do. There is no smell but it is like a small bugle band in my own bedroom. I have done this for years. In fact I can't stop it. Or so I thought. Then I met Hot Date. Let's be serious here for one moment. Imagine the mood the morning after a night of passion or even the morning of passion. You cannot under any circumstances let rip with gusto. You cannot let rip at all. So what do you do? How do you hold farts in? I have no idea but I seem to have mastered the technique. All this without having to adopt a silly walk of clenched buttocks as I disappear out of the room backwards to a far away part of the house to let rip of a triple thunder flutter. At first it was only when he was here. Then it seemed to spread to every day of the week. I was silently triumphant. I had controlled my wayward wind bags. The morning bugle party is no more. Or so I thought. Given I knew that I could break the sound barrier I felt after some time that it would only be fair to forewarn poor Hot Date that Concorde indeed had not just flown past it was me, just in case the incident ever arose that I did just let one off accidentally.
(This is particularly true now as I am getting older and farts can just slip out without warning. So I thought being up front and honest about it would make it better. But no. He doesn't fart, ever, it would appear, particularly in front of the kids or anyone else for that matter. This comes a shock to me. My family was raised on good fart humour. My mother spent years tying to decipher what food made Grumps farts so bleedin' toxic - ice cream in case you are interested. My father used to do the most amazing SBD's and then refuse to wind the window down in the car. We even have a fart machine that my 5 year old nephew loves. To us there is nothing like a good fart followed by a good laugh. Whoopee Cushions are a must on everyone's Christmas list. Since Hot Date has revealed his non fart status my bowels have rebelled. Let me out, they seem to cry every morning. The bugles are back with a vengeance. I know any time soon that one day, early in the morning I will hear shrieking as he is blasted to the other side of the bedroom by my billowy bowels. Oh the shame.

4 comments:

  1. 'Better an empty house than a bad tenant!' is what my Pa usually says after farting....always makes me smile...either that or 'one less pound in the doctors pocket'.....
    but I do sympathise with your plight, and Hot date must must must be a farter, as everybody is to some degree. I would just 'go with the wind' as usual and see how he takes it...remember to batten down the hatches first though!

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  2. My mother used to say 'wherever you be let your wind go free' but my hubby doesn't approve of ladies blowing off so it has to be controlled a bit... the boys have competitions for the loudest - maybe your Hot Date does silent violents and when he eventually does let go you will all know about it!

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  3. Libby- I couldn't agree more. In fact I think he might have "let one off" last weekend but was too embarrassed to say so. I hope this doesn't become a deal breaker if you know what I mean
    Betty - I'm sure it is not good for you to control it. Where does it go?

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  4. I admire your honesty and humour! My hubby disapproves of anyone farting and never does it himself, darned man, so it's a nightmare for me i I feel one building up ready to let rip! Better out than in, as my Mum used to say. Perhaps your Hot Date does Silent Creepers?

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