Farting In Bed with Boys

Well, one boy, to be precise.

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Photo by Kinga Cichewicz on Unsplash

I understand that this all sounds a little unbelievable, but I wouldn’t lie to you, at least not regarding the serious business of wind breaking.

Back in our teenage years, if my brother, Dustin, or I would let blow, say, in the living room while watching Seinfeld, Mom’s reaction would go something like this, “Jesus Christ, stop doing that in public!” I would look around to find my dad sprawled out on the couch, either sleeping or pretending to sleep because he, smartly, didn’t want to get involved in this argument. Her idea of “public” was us. The family. “That’s disgusting. If you have to pass gas, excuse yourself and go to the washroom.”

I have been told, time and time again, that it is unhealthy to withhold farts.

Yet, I cannot stop.

I’m pretty sure this is the worst news my husband has ever given me.

I am mortified and immediately start wondering who else I have inadvertently farted in front of while in an unconscious state. It is almost as though my entire self-image has been brutally torn down and trampled over in this one moment of learning such information.

Mother, writer, user of too many hastags.

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