This actually happened a few weeks ago and I didn’t think about it again until the topic of farting came up at the office. My office is a large room that can have anywhere from 0 to 5 people working in it, and the swivel chairs are a little squeaky and sometimes make a farting noise. We have gotten in the habit of saying “chair” when the farting noises occur, so our office-mates know that we’re not rude smelly pigs. Well apparently when I’m not around, one of my coworkers farts and then says “not chair”, which a particularly fastidious coworker finds extremely offensive.
So anyway…I was in the office for 3 days this week, which is a very rare occurrence. On Day 1, when the farter and I sat down to review a project, Mr. Fastidious said that he was happy to have some company (I’m pretty sure he changed his mind by Day 3). Somehow the chair/not chair thing came up, which led to a discussion about dutch ovens. (For those of you who are not “in the know”, a dutch oven is when you fart and then pull the covers over your loved one’s head, forcing them to breathe in your exhaust.)
So ANYWAY…I told my coworkers a little story about my own version of a dutch oven and I was laughing so frickin hard that my boss called from two offices away and told me to keep it down. I’m pretty sure he was just jealous and wanted in on the fun.
So here’s the story: A few weeks ago we took Grandma Ginny and Grampa B out to dinner at Chef Orient to thank them for all of their hard work on the new closets. I have no idea what I ate that day, but I wish I knew so I could eat it again when Ben really
annoys me. Or when anyone annoys me for that matter. Whatever it was, I stunk. I stunk so bad it was actually quite impressive. So on the way to Chef Orient (me, Ben, and the kids in my car, Grandma Ginny and Grampa B following behind), I saved up for a few miles and then let a good one go. A REALLY good one. The kids had their shirts pulled over their faces and were begging for mercy. So I did what any good parent would do and I locked the windows. Ben was frantically yelling at me to let him roll down his window and I was just driving along cackling like a hyena with an old wildebeest leg. So Ben, in his desperation, opened the car door while I was driving, and although a small voice in my head said that probably wasn’t a good thing for the kids to witness, I was still laughing my ass off. That is, until the frantic honking, screaming, and light-flashing started up from the vehicle behind us, as the panic-stricken grandparents thought Norah’s door was open and she was about to fall out onto Belknap Road. I’m pretty sure I was the only one who found this whole episode funny, but maybe someday they’ll all look back on it and laugh.
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“Remember when Mommy farted in the car and we almost died?”
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