Farty Pants

So ... I'd love to be considered ladylike and all that, but one thing ruins that for me: I'm kind of a farty person.

If you've been reading the blog for long, you probably know that (and thank you for loving me anyway). I mean, remember the time I farted while hooked up to a contraction monitor? Or my ongoing struggle to contain my Zumba-induced flatulence? Or the time the entire neighborhood knew I had gas? Or the fart that ruined an intimate moment and pissed off my husband?

I don't know why I'm naturally gassy. Some people aren't. My own mother rarely farts. I've heard her do it like three times in my entire thirty-four years. But despite the fact that I inherited small boobs and frizzy hair from her side of the family, she didn't genetically gift me with the "non-farty" gene. Thanks Mom.

The reason I'm writing about this today is because I literally kept myself awake farting the other night. This has never happened before. But I cooked some white beans and collard greens and didn't soak the beans beforehand. So really, this is sort of a public service announcement: if you cook dried beans, SOAK THEM for a while first. Apparently it prevents gas. Anyway, I skipped this crucial step and ended up battling gas for like twenty-four solid hours.

My point is, during this time I was able to do some thoughtful reflection about farting. Like ... everybody farts, at least once in a while. Like, EVERYBODY. The hottest, most successful, most public people on the planet are still humans, and they're biologically predisposed to busting ass just like the rest of us.

She farts. 

He farts.

These people? They all fart.

Doctors. Dentists. Lawyers. The President. Kim Kardashian. The Pope. The Dalai Lama (thus proving that no one is too holy to slip one out - here he is talking about it on camera. I promise it's the most awesome 27 seconds you'll experience all day).

EVERYBODY FARTS. Erry-body. Why are we so ashamed of it? It's basically just the expulsion of air from our bodies. Like breathing. Only from, you know, a different hole. Sure, it stinks sometimes, but like ... so does our breath. Yet nobody tells us to stop breathing.

Can you imagine if we just farted whenever we needed to fart, and it wasn't taboo or socially inappropriate? Like babies. You know how newborn babies just let 'er rip without giving a damn about whose presence they're in? What would the world be like if we never outgrew that tendency? If, for example, your college professor fired off a few rump-rounds while standing at the whiteboard, or your boss lifted a cheek to let one escape during a business meeting. The world would be a much more comfortable place ... at least for those of us who are holding in a fart most of the time.

It isn't like that, though. We have to be good citizens and keep our flatulence in check (which is why I wrote this little letter to my boys on the topic).

I guess if they were things we didn't try to hide, farts wouldn't be as funny. Because there's no humor in, say, blowing your nose. So maybe it's a good thing that they're largely considered unacceptable - we have something to laugh at. All of us, every living, breathing person on earth, since gas is like the great equalizer: no one is immune, regardless of age, gender, race, sexuality, beliefs, or social standing. It's like God's gift to humanity. Maybe there's a missing piece of scripture about it. And on the eighth day, God said, "Let there be a humorous sound resonating from the anus." And it was a fart, and He saw that it was funny.