pfffft

I have moved in with S&P. It’s lovely to come home every night and sit down to dinner, to unwind on the couch before bed, and to wake up to a snuggle and kiss every morning.

The only downside is, I am living in a fart cloud. He let his guard down early on in the relationship, as most men do, but with the increased amount of time I am in his presence, I rarely feel like the air I am breathing hasn’t been tainted.

Right before his last business trip I told him I would really appreciate it if, upon his return, he were to bring a new habit home, which is either, a) suffer through the gas in silence, or; b) take a walk down the hallway, step in the spare room for a moment, and then let loose. This never happened. In fact, the situation had only exacerbated itself over the next few weeks.

He basically stopped acknowledging I was even in the same room. My eyes got wide and filled with fury when I realized the couch cushion vibrating under me was due to wind breaking in the next seat over. I asked him to please excuse himself after he rips the highly audible explosions. It’s just common courtesy. It says you are 3 feet away, and farted, and are sorry.

Well, I got what I asked for. Now, more times a day than I would care to count, I hear various mini apologizes for the flatulence. I have created a monster. I hear him in the next room where there is no way I am subject to any fart cloud fall out, excusing the unheard disruption. Half the time I am laying right next to him, didn’t hear a thing, but I do hear, “ I'm sorry baby.” Only then am I alerted to the fact I am laying in his fart dust.

Now I think I'd rather not know.