Moms Don't Fart

That is what I told my kids anyway. I'm not sure why, but I have never felt comfortable farting around anyone. Not even my own kids. They think farts are hilarious. I don't think it's a coincidence that when they first started smiling everyone told me they probably just had gas. I'm not surprised... knowing what I know now. My husband also seems to feel pretty comfortable expelling gas whenever the need arises. After eight years of marriage, I still don't fart in front of him. If I recall correctly he felt comfortable farting around me from day one.

I'm not sure why I'm so uptight about it. My parents farted in front of us, and each other, all the time. I'll never forget the day my sister fell prey to one of my dad's many "fart pranks". She was sitting on the floor with my cousin pretending to have a picnic. My father walked in and asked them what they were doing. "We're having a picnic Daddy". He replied "Oh, how nice...would you like me to give you something for your picnic?" My sister was so excited and she shouted "Sure!" He walked over to their blanket, turned around, and let out the loudest, most disgusting sounding fart. The poor little thing was mortified and as he walked away he laughed "Have that for your picnic!" My Mom would get him back for his pranks though. She was, however, much more subtle in her approach. My father would be laying on the couch, watching television and she would casually walk by. Acting as if she noticed something on the floor in front of him she would bend over, inched from his face, and let one go. It always made me giggle, watching these antics, but I still didn't participate.

For a while I thought maybe it was just a female thing. Maybe we are just a bit more embarrassed about our bodily functions. It was hard to tell though because most of my friends were guys. They had no qualms about farting whatsoever. They would always have some kind of disgusting commentary to go along with it too like "Whoa, I had to pull back on that one...I almost shit my pants" or "Look out for that one, I drank draft beer last night. That will make your eyes water". As more females began hanging with us (no doubt smitten with these gas bags) I noticed that they were more reserved on this subject. But, to my dismay, they would occasionally own up to one. Thankfully there weren't as gross about it. They might say something like "Oopsy, I tooted". Then there was one female in particular (that I am still friends with, so I will not mention her by name) that would get an evil smile on her face when she would fart, while she waited for someone to smell it. She likes to throw out things like "Sorry...I ate cheese...it does that to me".

I remember the day I started my little white lie about my refusal to fart, claiming it to be an inability. The boys were going back and forth, farting and laughing, commenting on whose was louder. My oldest son looked at me and said "You do one Mom". I calmly looked up from my book and replied "Moms don't fart". He was shocked "Really?!" "Yep" I said. Then I added "Have you ever heard Mommy fart?" He pondered it for a moment then said "No. I don't think I have". He must have been thinking about it all day because that night he came to me with a book I used to read to them all the time called The Gas We Pass.

For those of you unfamiliar with the "My Body Science" series from Scholastic, it also includes riveting literary masterpieces such as Everyone Poops and All About Scabs. My boys are huge fans. Anyway, he said "Doesn't this book say that everyone farts?" "Yep" I said "but it must have been written by a Dad, because it's wrong".

He let it go for the time being, but he was very suspicious of me. I almost got caught once. He asked me to get him a drink and while I was standing in front of the refrigerator, with him right behind me, I let one slip. It didn't make any noise, so I thought I was OK, but after a few seconds he looked up at me and said "Did YOU just fart?!" "No, of course not" I said nonchalantly. He wasn't buying it though..."Then what is that smell?" I told him that obviously something had gone bad in the refrigerator and I would take care of it. It wasn't me because I don't fart. Man, I'm good.

After years of putting up this facade, I finally broke down and told him the truth. Well, actually, I didn't tell him...it went down like this:

The boys were at it again. Having a farting contest, only this time they were running right up to me and sticking their butts out in my direction as they farted.  They would then run away, laughing and telling each other how they were farting at me. Finally, I'd had enough. I grabbed them both, held them down on the couch, sat on them and let one rip. They both jumped up horrified and screamed "I though Moms don't fart!!" As I walked away, feeling quite liberated I might add, I said "Yeah...about that...I lied. Now that you guys know IT IS ON!" They were staring at me with wide eyes in disbelief. I added "That's right...it is on like Donkey Kong, so remember that the next time you want to fart on me" as I walked from the room, with my head held high, I decided to go and find my husband. May as well break the news to him while I was at it...