Do you Smell what I Smell?

I bet you didn't know that a healthy person passes gas about three times a day. I know some of you are thinking, "Eww gross, not me!" let me assure you that even if you NEVER fart, you in fact do... and it is probably in your sleep if you are so polite as to never do it during waking hours. Lets face it, farting is a fact of life and a healthy process over all.

So I'm sure you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do fart (we all do) but what may surprise you are some of a my fart stories. You expect these fart stories from guys; I had a brother growing up... but even if you are too polite to discuss it I bet we girls have stories too.

Getting over my shyness about farting happened in college living in a girls dorm. Christmas was drawing near and my room mate and I were hanging out in our room working on last minute papers and projects; the local radio station playing Christmas carols softly in the background. I was engrossed in the last paragraph of an English paper so I was attempting to hold in a monster fart until I could finish it and excuse myself from our room. Finally the paragraph was done and as I shifted to get up off the couch the monster ripped free just as the radio sang "Do you hear what I hear?" into the quite room. A suspended second of silence followed before Soul Mate began to laugh uncontrollably while singing "Do you hear what I hear?" between laughter and gasps for breath. I stood still as a statue not knowing what to do. Then she laughed again, sucked in a huge breath, grinned and with perfect pitch quietly sang, "Do you smell what I smell?" and proceeded to laugh uncontrollably. I left the room a bit red-faced. From that moment on it was our own private joke, "Do you hear what I hear?" We'd say it whenever we noticed that someone had farted around us or we farted in our room.

An unfortunate few of you know the lingering power of smells. You know, onions on your fingers after making dinner, no matter how much you wash the smell is still there. Soul Mate and I discovered that farts can linger... for days. It was a bright spring Sunday morning and we were off to church. As usual Soul Mate was driving so we headed into the parking lot and dropped into her cherry red nissan stanza. As the seat belts were sliding into place she turned down the radio and we stopped, sniffed, and looked at each other. "Do you smell what I smell?" I in a puzzled voice. As a rule you try not to fart in your Sunday best. Soul Mate sniffed the air again and proclaimed, "I can't believe it!" I raised my eye brow as I rolled down my window. "I gave a guy a ride home from work last night and he farted in the car. It wasn't all that bad but we rolled down the windows anyway." I gave her a look and said, "You're telling me THIS smell is a fart from last night? Are you sure he didn't crap in the back seat?" She gave me a dirty look in response. Despite my window being down the smell seemed to be getting worse. Soul Mate had a disbelieving look on her face and had yet to start the car. "Ok," I said, "I'm driving, this is amazing and way too overpowering. It smells like poop." I got out of the car and she followed after rolling down all the windows. A couple of days later I asked if the smell was still there; she glared at me and said "faintly." So as a general warning, while farting in cars may be fun when there are lots of people in the car and its too rainy or cold to roll down the windows - be warned that sometimes the smell lingers.

I don't know if anyone else out there has a place or time that they just KNOW they are going to have terrible gas. I'm not talking about certain foods like beans or broccoli but a place or situation. I have one. Although I'm not exactly sure of the cause, maybe the quiet atmosphere and contemplative people but I get silent but deadly gas every time I go to Blockbuster to rent a movie. Sounds crazy I know but Love of My Life can testify to this strange phenomenon. Every time I go into Blockbuster, I start at one end of the new release wall and usually before I hit the titles starting with "C" my bowls are rolling. It is never the kind of gas you can "hold" either. It is the kind that feels like your insides will explode if you don't let it out. So as my stomach rolls I cringe; I know what will happen when I reach the "H" titles. The first one that slips out is such a relief and I move quickly away down the alphabet of new releases and hope that will be the only one. It is oozing its way around the store and people are trying not to look around -it is truely terrible! By the time I reach the "S" and "T" my bowls are on a roll and there is a small but noxious silent fart with almost every step. I hate going to Blockbuster to pick out movies and I promise I won't be offended if you happen to see me there and wait for me to leave before entering. Needless to say NetFlix was a gift from God for more reasons that one!

Lastly, and probably best, you all know I teach middle schoolers. Middle schoolers are at that wonderful age when adults are not quite human yet because they don't expect adults (especially teachers) to have the same issues they do. I have classes all day long, including after lunch. Well sometimes the food at lunch just doesn't agree with me and I feel a little gassy later in the day. One day it was particularly bad and there was no way to hold it in until class was over. Normally, while they are working I would excuse myself into the hall to get a drink of water and come back relieved. This day I was lecturing on chemical bonds and we were running behind so there was no stopping. As I stood in the front of the class talking about ionic bonds I let a silent one go and never missed a beat, just kept right on talking like it never happened. The students in the front row began to wrinkle their noses then look at each other. The girls all immediately looked down the row at the boy sitting at the end. His eyes were wide and he shook his head as if not say "not me!" I pretended I didn't notice any of this and kept right on with the lesson. To this day I don't think they are aware who the real offender was that day... or the many days since. You see, I learned something that day too. The middle schoolers never suspect the teacher of such an offense. Since then I've never worried about farting in class... cruel as it may be; someone else will take the blame.

Enjoy your healthy poofs today!