Stinkin' Funny

The following story falls under the category "TMI" so consider yourself warned. But because it is one of the most hilarious moments in my marriage, it bears revealing. Those of you who love me will still hopefully love me and those of you who can't decide, well this may or may not help you make a decision. I'll not hold against you either way. For me, it won't matter because it is what it is and I can't really do anything about it and there in lies the problem. 

Indeed a problem. We all have this bodily function but some people have a polite version and others fall into the vial category. I would definitely be in the later (according to my sweet husband). It's been an ongoing problem all my life and since the pregnancy / birth of my child it has become measurably more frequent, increased volume, decreased control, and heightened odor. Basically, I really can't help it, even when I try. 

Diagnosis: flatulence - noun 

1. intestinal, gas, wind; informal farting, tooting, formal flatus

Even when all is working as "regular" as it gets (which is once a day if I'm lucky) it requires attention to diet, exercise, water intake, junk intake at a minimum, just the right amount of fiber but not too much, etc. So after being on vacation for three days, one of those spent in the car driving, eating all kinds of junk because we're away from home and "on vacation", too many McDonald's stops, too much diet soda, too much everything; you can imagine how my system might be having a fit. The day of the incident, my mom had cooked a meal of fresh vegetables from the garden: cream corn, corn on the cob, fried okra, fresh tomatoes and corn bread followed by birthday cake and a couple of beers. My tummy was in bad shape. Let's just say it was rotten inside and an explosion was around the corner although unfortunately, never at my request. 

All evening I had been letting them out when I could in as much privacy as possible. I knew I was rotten inside. Dying to poop but to no avail until my body says so. Plus, who of you can poop in a strange potty? It's a mental thing on top of a tummy thing. Pitiful! So as we're getting in the car to load up and go back to the hotel, I'm getting Colin in his car seat and I let one slide thinking I'm outside, everyone's inside, good time right? Wrong! My husband has the nose of a dog. He can smell things that most humans don't smell and if it is a pungent smell, you'll know it by his face. I'm buckling Colin in thinking I've pulled that one off and JD's face scrunches up and he looks at me and says, "Did you toot?" Ever the polite one. I admitted my sin. He knows. I can't lie out of that one. Even Colin's toots smell like roses compared to mine. I knew they were bad. This one went outside then it floated in the car and decided to sit a moment under JD's nose before it dissipated. I said, "Sorry. I know. I'm rotten inside." 

We get back to the hotel, everyone goes to bed. Colin is asleep. I'm asleep, JD is reading his book. All of a sudden I hear JD groan and move. This wakes me a little and I roll over and there is my husband standing as far against the wall as he can (1.5 feet - we're in a hotel room) with his book in front of him with a face like I've never seen. Truly, I can't smell anything so I'm not sure what the deal is. He says to me with all seriousness (there is no humor or forgiveness in his words or tone): BTW, he didn't let me get a word in...

"This has to stop! This is bad. You can't do this. What needs to happen here? Do I need to get another room because I can't handle this. Isn't there something you can take for that? Do you want me to go to CVS and get you something? Do you need to potty? (I swear, he said potty) Do you think you can concentrate and not do that anymore? I mean for crying out loud, it's really bad!!!" I said, "I'm sorry!" JD reluctantly got back into the bed. Tucks me in so there is a barrier between us of bed linens and pillows and turns his back with a groan of disbelief. 

That night, I promise I dreamt about going to the doctor and told him that my husband was going to divorce me if I didn't do something about my flatulence. I guess I was successful in my concentrating on not tooting anymore because JD thanked me the next morning. 

During the vacation I was always up and ready before the boys and I would go to the lobby and read while they slept. The next morning after my reprimand I was getting ready and my feelings were really hurt over the whole thing. I mean seriously, it's not something I do on purpose. I wish I had a perfect body that didn't have gas, could poop whenever I wanted, pooped 2 or 3 times a day and had shit that didn't stink but I don't. I fumed over this in the shower and then I went and had coffee and breakfast. 

When I came back in, my coffee kicked in and it kicked in with a vengeance. As I sat and my body did what it should've been doing for the past three days, I began to feel compassion for my husband and his predicament. The stench was unbearable. I gave myself three courtesy flushes. And finally the humor of it replaced my hurt feelings. I was hiding my face in a towel laughing to the point of tears remembering my husband standing as far away as he could begging for relief from the endless torture of my flatulence.