When toots let loose…

Here’s an honest truth: we all toot. Even women. Yes, I’d love to say when it happens to us females it smells like rainbows, sunshine and joy, but it just doesn’t. It sucks.

But God forbid we let men know that!

I know when I’m on a date and a storm begins to brew in the…rectal region, I suddenly have the most impressive sphincter control. Let no muscle go unclenched!! He must not know I toot.

But what happens when that veil of ignorance is shattered on a date? Ha! Allow me to enlighten you…

I was hanging out at Jeff’s house (yes the same Jeff that lit fire to my lady parts, see Too much spice in my love life) enjoying a quiet evening of movies and good conversation, we had been clear of awkward moments for at least a good month….needless to say we were obviously due for another round of it.

In the midst of playful arguments and teasing Jeff began to tickle me. Now tickling isn’t dangerous thing, but mixed with whatever Satan-given food I had ingested earlier that day….well let’s just say it was like shaking up a can of soda.

One minute I was laughing and trying to push him away and then IT happened. I would love to say it was cute and dainty like a fairy’s giggle but NOPE! I apparently am not that lucky. It was like the mating call of an elephant seal or something horribly awkward.

Jeff froze. I stared at him like a deer in headlights. For a second he looked embarrassed (later he told me he thought HE had done it) and then realized I had been the culprit. What was worse, I had a stuffy nose from allergies so I couldn’t smell a thing! I had no idea if it was just loud or if I had suddenly released toxic fumes from Hell.

“Oh my god don’t breathe!” I yelled breaking the shocked silence. He burst out laughing as I began to tear up, completely embarrassed. To make matters worse, as he brayed like a freaking donkey he quickly got up and found a can of Febreeze.

“It smells?!” I asked horrified. Jeff only laughed harder and sprayed.

“I don’t know, my nose is stuffed too!” he laughed. Tears were coming from his eyes from laughter…jerk.

Still horrified I kept repeating, “I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I am so so sorry!” as if I had purposefully passed gas in front of him.

As his fits of hysteric laughter subsided he assured me that he wasn’t grossed out by it, only surprised that I was capable of such a thing.

He gave me hell about it for weeks until inevitable he slipped up accidentally and evened the playing field.

Men, please realize we pass gas. We do our best during the dating phase to hide that fact but try not to be judgmental if it happens.

Women, it happens. Chances are he’ll laugh it off and probably end up rating it on a scale of 1 to 10 on the “epic” factor…..I don’t understand men, but girls don’t be mortified if it happens.

We all fart.

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