I farted yesterday.

You might say farting is a time-honored tradition in the Cotter family. 

My father was the king of farts. 

We would be sitting around the table playing a game of Michigan Rummy and he would start focusing on his cards – not looking up at all – and then the dreaded smile would appear; and we knew we were all in trouble. 

As my Dad used to say, “It’s not so much the smell, as the way it makes my eyes burn.”

My brother James was another star farter.  His mother received a call from his school asking if there was something wrong with him.  When Jean asked what they meant, they replied, “Well, he seems awfully gaseous.” 

Just following in my Dad’s whiff-steps.

My sister Karon and both her boys (but in particular Kaden, the younger son) are both fans of farting and Karon has at least two hilarious stories about her proclivity to fart.

My mother was not a farter.  I’m sure she (like everyone) farted, but my mother would have rather exploded than fart in front of someone.  And my sister and I were certainly expected to keep our efluxtions hidden from the rest of the world.

Having been married for 24 years; I have, from time to time farted in front of my dear (and long suffering) husband.  And he has farted in front of me – a lot. 

But when Bill farts, it’s no harm no foul (literally) because I have almost no sense of smell. 

Bill, on the other hand, has been blessed (or cursed, depending) with a keen sense of smell. 

So yesterday ….

I was passing through the dining room and I suddenly felt the urge to fart.  And, for once, I decided to go with it.  Now, I could have held it in until I was in another room, but I just decided to let loose.

And let loose I did.

It was a fart for the record books.  Long, loud and lush.  The kazoo of my butthole played a symphony of pee-yew. 

My husband was at the open refrigerator getting cream for our coffee.

And the look on his face ….

His face captured a whole saga of betrayal, horror, and bewilderment. 

The pure “What have you done?” and “Why would you do that to me?” 

And I laughed.  Oh, how I laughed. 

In fact, as I’m writing this, I’m still laughing.

Farts are just funny that way.