Flatulence

"I fart. Mommy! Mommy? I FART!"
And we both giggled.
And then I remembered to be a mommy. "You tooted?"
"No, I fart."
"Okay, well, when you do that, you need to say, 'Excuse me, I tooted.'"
"'Cuse Me! I Fart!"
And we both giggled.

When did it stop being okay to fart in the presence of others? I'm not talking about on an elevator with a group of acquaintances or strangers, that's rude. I'm talking out in the open, amongst family and friends. I'm also not talking about locking the windows, launching an air biscuit in the car while traveling down the highway (thanks, Donny! That was always so much fun) and laughing maniacally. But, I have to admit, it made me laugh, too, as soon as I was able to get the window down again.

Here's something that I think everyone, young and old, thinks but never admits. Farts are funny. They are slightly forbidden and they sound funny. They make me laugh. Because sometimes, I'm still 12-years old.

Unless they happen in public in front of strangers. Then I will blush for you. I can't take it when others are embarrassed, which is why I cannot watch the American Idol auditions or listen to most poetry. It hurts my soul. So, if you let a fart slip in public, I promise to continue to accept you and will even speak with you after, you pariah, you.

But farting in private settings is a-okay with me. If you are my friend, I trust you will announce your intentions, let 'er rip, and giggle with me. I don't want my friends to be uncomfortable around me, and trapped gas will end a good evening of conversation and camaraderie faster than you can light a match. Just don't expect me to go first. You already know my feelings on the subject, but it's up to you to make the first move.

So, come on over, grab a porch chair, and if ya gotta, ya gotta, just warn a girl.