The Delicate Art of Farting and Excusing Oneself

Being a long-standing bachelor and card-carrying member of the ‘Man Club’, you could say that I am intimately familiar with my own bodily functions; namely farting.  In fact, one of my most embarrassing moments was at the hands of sudden mistimed fart while practicing yoga at the YMCA, but for the most part I think farts are pretty funny.  I work my bodily emissions in the same way that some artists work their oil paints or clay; I don’t fart so much as I create total atmospheric aroma landscapes.  What can I say?  Up to this point I lived alone with two cats so who gives a shit, right?  If I want to let loose with the thunder every so often – so be it.  But now there is a seven-year-old child in the picture to think about as well, so simply letting them rip willy-nilly may not be the most acceptable thing any longer.  Or is it?

Fortunately for me (or unfortunately, depending on how you decide to look at it) HRH  is not exactly a delicate flower herself; she can let ‘em fly with the best of them, usually while seated on your lap.  I figure, then that gives me the equal right to launch my own given the need much to my girlfriends dismay.  Fair is fair and, besides, I jes gotta be me at the end of the day.  And, saying ‘excuse me’  afterwards, as is commonly considered appropriate, was never considered high on my list of etiquette priorities.  After all, if no one is around to hear and take offense what difference does it really make?  This is the whole ‘if a tree falls in the forest’  philosophy thing I suspect.  So what is the new expectation now that I’m partly responsible for trying to raise a socially conscious and mannerly child?

Well, for starters, I’m maintaining my ground that farts are inherently funny.  It’s compressed air in your intestinal tract being forced out your ass so that it makes a trumpet-like sound announcing its arrival to the world at large…what’s not to love?  That’s comedic gold!  Sure, dropping bombs in the aisles at the supermarket or in the pews during Sunday mass might not be the appropriate thing to do, but while horsing around at home…why the hell not?  Why pretend that it’s not exactly what it is…HI-LAR-IOUS.  That’s what I say anyway.

Most parenting websites I have viewed today on topic are quick to point out that maintaining a strict ‘No Farting or Burping’ rule with small children is the best course of action but, hey, didn’t Hippocrates also say that “the passing of gas makes one whole”?  Ah, yeah, he did.  Are you going to outright dispute the ‘Father of Medicine’?  Hell-to-the-no!  Not this Master Farter anyway.

Although I acknowledge that farting is largely impolite and to be avoided at all costs while out carousing in public, while in the privacy of our own home, I say let’s enjoy them for what they are…spontaneous and humorous releases of air.  No way am I going to miss out on future farting competitions; for which I am still the reigning World Champ’een by the way.  So, bring it on child!  Furthermore, we also have a new rule about farting: instead of your typical stuffy ‘excuse me’, we respond with something infinitely more appropriate, namely:

(click HERE to listen)

Now, for those of who are slapping your foreheads in disgust, I know this is just setting myself up in the future (or my significant other, or worse…Grammy or Grampa) for the ultimate embarrassment when she inappropriately announces this particular proclamation to the world after said fart has been released while, say, in the middle of math class, or standing in line at Walmart or Chuck E. Cheese, or whatever…but I don’t care.  I’ll just have t-shirts made up that says “Blame her Mothers Boyfriend” or something direct and to-the-point like that.  Personally, if it ever happens to me, I’ll just look at the offended party in the eye, assume the ‘proud step-parent’ posture and respond confidently with “yeah, well, wasn’t it?”, and then let rip with one of my own.

God help me.

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1 Comment

  1. Kathren

     /  February 21, 2012

    Ok I have to admit I love reading your blogs. It is funny to look in on someone else’s life with a child. As a parent, I forget what life looks like to someone who just steps to a “parent like” role. I sooo have to get my boyfriend to start reading these blogs… though it might make him run 🙂


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