What a Gas!

We have a little secret in our family…we think farts are funny.

It’s a generational thing on my side; I grew up in a family where gopher guts, knock knock, bad puns, and fart jokes were considered high humor. “Pull my finger” was fodder for a family laugh attack or groan as we matured.   My husband, M, decidedly did not have the same experience.  In fact, when the subject comes up (hee hee) at my in-laws house, my proper mother in law is known to protest that “she didn’t raise her boys that way; it must have been college…”

I can attest that it was not, in fact, college that accounts for M’s more relaxed treatment of the farting issue.  I had just started “hanging out” with my now husband M when we had a luncheon conversation with several friends re: farting.  Not sure why the topic arose (ha!) but the question at hand was whether anyone believed that M farted.  My husband makes an initial impression as a serious, reserved sort of bloke.  After a round of “nos” by everyone else at the table, I scrutinized him for a second and said, “Yep, he certainly does.”  13 years later, I won’t confirm or deny the truth of the matter on this post, but I will say, we’ve shared many laughs together on many subjects…

This leads us to a recent bedtime conversation with our two year old daughter, V.  I was very proud of V the other day when she excused herself after burping at the lunch table.  “What good manners!,” I thought to myself with a mental high-five for teaching her well.  However, bedtime tonight was another experience.  We were snuggling in her bed as I was putting her to sleep when I hear a little toot then a giggle.  “My butt!”  V exclaimed.  “V fart!”

“Yes, I know sweetie.”

My husband M, was resting alongside her bed after telling her our nightly bedtime story.  “Dad?,”  V piped up.

“Yeah?”

“Fart from my butt!”

“Congratulations,” he panned.

I can’t help giggling.  M good naturedly swatted at my arm, to remind me that my giggles will encourage future fart talk in our house.  I try to stifle it, but I know V can feel me shaking as I laugh.

Oh well, as I’ve told her before, “It’s ok. In our house, farts are funny…”

(Editorial note:  after writing this post, I mentioned the topic to my in-laws and might have uncovered the root of my husband’s more relaxed position on farting.  At  a recent family event, his uncle entertained the family with a fart machine device.  The device sounds like a whoopie cushion and is triggered by the press of a button.  Apparently, he’s been testing this out on the neighbors; faking out some poor joggers on his street.  So Mom L, nope, I don’t think it was college that corrupted your son, but it might just be your little brother…thanks for the laughs, as always, Uncle B!  Maybe it’s in the genes, after all!)