I used to live in a country where the culture is to
definitely ignore any gases people pass. No one draws attention to the fact by
saying “Excuse Me”! If one didn’t mention it, chances are…it didn’t happen!
Even the most sensitive ears and noses would support this notion by ignoring
the sound effects or bearing with the discomfort of an unwanted invasion of the
senses. Hmmm, life was so simple!
F*rt was like the other 4 letter F word; I never heard
it mentioned except by a couple of frustrated mothers who would reprimand their
tattle tale telling children to “not report every f*rt and cough they
hear”! Even then, it was shocking to hear such language from a mother’s mouth.
Perhaps it was around that time, I made a subconscious pact with myself to
never ever swear. My only indulgence is “damn it Jim!” and I have said that on
many an occasion. Thank you Star Trek for little earthly indiscretions!
So, why bring up the topic of f*rting on my friend’s
birthday? Because KPF was the first one (in my life) to ever discuss it in a
conversation much to my distress at that time. He talked about it very
casually. If I remember correctly, it was
an elderly gentleman (perhaps a grandfather) who would let go of a f*rt and
then exclaim loudly that he did not hear it! It got a lot of laughs from
our other friends and I was just in awe of this strange freedom to talk about
an uncontrollable human urge in such a casual manner.
A few years later, I was helping a Grade 3 teacher in
her classroom and had my second encounter with that strange freedom. A boy in
the class suddenly exclaimed that someone f*rted and a bunch of boys exploded
in laughter. There were a few minutes of chaos before the teacher got them to
quiet down. I took it upon myself to investigate this phenomenon (of f*rts
generating all sorts of amusement for various age groups) … what’s so funny? In
my quest, I stumbled upon a book called The Gas We Pass. It is a brilliant
little book that demystifies a f*rt in a logical manner. I bought that book for
ASid. He was 3 at that time and I couldn’t imagine him disrupting a classroom that
way ever!
Between those 2 episodes, I got married. Craigley and
I had mostly a long distance relationship and really did not spend a lot of
time together. I guess he held on to his gas till we were safely married and I
made the commitment to move to the west coast to be with him. The moment we got
off the plane, collected our baggage and got outside…it was (in my 39 years of
experience) the single most powerful gas attack with spectacular sound effects
that lasted a few seconds. Even as I stood shocked and speechless, Craigley
cheerfully declared, “That felt good!”
Since that moment, there has been no dearth of such
special sound effects. We have discussed it a few times and I did let Craigley
know that it bothers me that when I am so considerate and delicate about this
gaseous matter, he is so out there! The first few times, he was genuinely
shocked. He reminded me that I grew up with a brother and I should not be so
bothered by it. Perhaps my brother who grew up with a sister is more sensitive
than Craigley who is the youngest of 3 brothers! Discussions turned into
arguments and then, I gave up. For better or for worse…that’s what it’s all
about!
Craigley does not give up so easily. One fine day, he
declared that he heard me f*rt in my sleep. It was his “A-Ha-I-Gotcha” moment.
Seriously? I was sleeping!! Seriously? How childish!! After that gleeful
accusation from my husband, I guess I stopped complaining and eventually
started ignoring any related or unrelated sounds. However, the discussions and
arguments came back a few years later. Apparently, ASid lets go off these
soundless and yet potent gases while we are in the car. For whatever reason, I
am oblivious to these episodes. I can’t hear anything or smell anything. It is
Craigley’s theory that this is ASid’s way of taking revenge on his father; it
is almost a conspiracy as ASid meticulously plans these moments when we are on
the highway and his dad can’t escape from his wrath?! Seriously?
The gassy saga continued as Hans started JK last year.
His teacher brought to my notice that he took immense delight in uttering “washroom
words” in the classroom. They ranged from p** (both varieties), b*m, to the dreaded
f*rt! I couldn’t believe that it was my own son who was disrupting the
classroom on a daily basis. He thought it was funny and I guess he loved the
attention it got him. In fact, he got his older brother on the bandwagon as
well. It was as if ASid missed out on these landmark moments in his own life
and enjoyed the laughter with Hans. Craigley thought it was quite harmless till
he realized that Hans is turning into a regular class clown…sometimes parents are haunted by their own
childhood exploits and would never want their children to follow in their
footsteps! Together, we got Hans to understand that there is an appropriate
time and place to use “washroom words” and any inappropriate usage is
unacceptable. We got through to him…
Still, there are days when I hear a forbidden word
whispered followed by a muffled giggle and see twinkling eyes full of mischief.
Did she hear it? Did I get away with it?
Usually, I feign ignorance and let it go. This walk down memory lane should end
here; however, I have just one more incident to share. It happened one
afternoon during the summer holidays. I was on the couch with Hans. He was
watching some LEGO Ninjago episode on the PlayBook and I was
reading some magazine. All of a sudden, I felt this intense urge to let go of
some gas; usually, I would hold on to it till an appropriate time. I looked
around and there was only Hans and he was very absorbed. I figured I could take
a chance and I did. Barely a second later, my 5 year old solemnly says, “Momley,
you f*rted!” There was no giggling; he didn’t even look up from his PlayBook…it
was just a matter-of-fact statement. I immediately hastened to say, “Excuse me!”
Note: Dear K,
this was perhaps the most challenging post I ever wrote. I seriously consider
myself one of the most boring people in the world with absolutely NO sense of
humour! Even now, I cannot say the word f*rt; I have to spell it out! Given
that, this has truly been a difficult trek through untrodden territory. I must
say I got to finally enjoy that strange freedom. Thank you. You have a
wonderful day.
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