Farting is funny. Not funny "ha-ha," but roll on the floor, nearly wet myself FUNNY (and ever since I had kids, wetting myself in laughter has become a lot easier... I've GOT to get back to Kegels... anyway, I digress).
When we were little, and someone "fluffied," we would all giggle... mom and dad would even get a little chuckle out of it, but Grandma and Grandpa Messman? Well, it wasn't funny to them! One time, Grandpa Messman farted at a family gathering at their house and one of us giggled about it and whoever it was got hauled into a back bedroom to sit (and what? think about how UNfunny it is?? Well it IS funny... so sitting and thinking about it only makes it funnier!) That whole thing was awfully unfair that the person pumping the stench into the air got to stay out there, but adults are in charge, right?
So cut to present day (pun intended). My kids LOVE to fart and I mean LOUDLY. Josey has a way of doing a little double-clutch arm action while she farts so loudly, I think we are going to have to search for some newer, extra-strength laundry product. McKenna loves to fart very loudly and then just keep a straight face as if nothing happened... and just wait for people to moan about it... They came about their penchant for laughing at gas honestly. It cracks me up so much, I'm sitting here now, laughing until I cry!
The other day, I was cleaning the bathroom, and I guess being in the vicinity unearthed some deeply hidden intestinal bubbles and I squeaked out a few. I said, loudly enough for anyone within earshot to hear, "Excuse me, sorry!" I forgot that right next door to the bathroom was Josey's room and she had a friend over playing! I listened to see if Josey made an embarrassed comment, and I didn't hear one, so I was relieved (again - intended) my gaseous mistake went unnoticed! ...until I walked out into the living room. McKenna stopped what she was doing on the computer (which usually takes an act of Congress), turned to me, and said, dead serious, "Don't EVER do that when I have friends over." She punctuated her comment with a quiet glare, then she slowly turned back around and continued... searching Abercrombie for the perfect pair of jeans (which is only a fraction of the important things she has to accomplish online.) Oops. I guess farting is only funny sometimes... (to her...)
...to be continued...
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Move to the front of the line.
Get picked first.
Pull socks out of the dryer in pairs.
Isn't this what we all want?
Queue Jumping
My Favorite Haunts
Labels
Archive
-
▼
2010
(84)
-
▼
Jan
(32)
- January whizzes by in a blur.
- Little victories matter.
- Nailing jello.
- Who is in charge of this mess?
- Enable them to death.
- Mind-numbing therapy.
- Does that make me an idiot?
- As if she knew it were true...
- Do-in' good!
- Thanks, Matt's dad!
- Something's got to give.
- Everything's temporary given enough time.
- Address the gap.
- It goes on.
- Blighter's Rock.
- Criticism is an indirect form of self-boasting.
- Cross-town week is put to bed.
- Bragging rights.
- Go ahead, I'm listening.
- What does it say about a person?
- Finish each day and be done with it.
- It's a fine line.
- Next week's a new week.
- Crunching numbers.
- Deep thoughts.
- No embarrassing accolades.
- Just desserts.
- Karma.
- Fear and loathing.
- Luck be a lady.
- Another chance to get it right.
- A little more of the same.
-
▼
Jan
(32)
4 comments:
I have a distinct memory of riding in your family car? on the way to your cabin? with your family dog? and I don't remember who all was in the car? (Okay, so the memory isn't that distinct.) Anyway, your dog let go of a fart that, to this day, has not met it's equal. I can only imagine that if that pup were still alive, it would have been abducted by the Dept. of Defense, so they could create some sort of biological warfare with it's essence. Here's the part I do remember... The back seat was doubled over, either in laughter, or an attempt to catch a safe breath, and some of us (probably me and tony) made fun of the dog. Aunt Pat, quite rightly, jumped to the pup's defense. She apparently didn't want it's feelings to be hurt!
Ah... the power of the sense of smell. It brings back such fond memories.
Mel
I wonder if that dog was Mollie or Dinah? If it was Dinah, Mel, you're making fun of the poor little dog that was splattered all over the highway 4th of July weekend when you and your family were at the cabin!! (I've been told in my life I take things too seriously. Do you think this is one of them?) Bostons are known for being super gassy dogs - they can definitely clear a room - unfortunately, not a family filled car traveling 65 miles an hour. Christmas morning at Susan's house we were treated to Jessie's terrible toots. It made me remember Trixie, the Boston we had when I was a kid. This poor dog was so traumatized by the family flap over her farts that whenever she let one, she put her ears back and slunk out of the room before anyone had time to react. Maybe I was a little over-protective of poor Dinah/Mollie, but I just didn't want her to suffer the same emotional trauma that Trixie did!
However - in trying to overcome my own repressed childhood with regard to "fluffies," I have to admit I perhaps created a monster in allowing my children their uproariously festive fart fests.
Not two seconds after I hit "publish" on that last comment, my mind was flooded with memories of a pancaked Boston on the side of the road by the cabin. Now the karma wheel has come full circle, and I am dining on a plate of crow for lunch.
Pat, I love how you take full responsibility for Susan's kid's errant farting. Will you do that for me and mine, as well?
And I loved your alliteration in the last sentence.
Mel
p.s. Sorry, Dinah.
My "to be continued" is about Jessie farts... stay tuned! :o)
Post a Comment