What better indicator of the pure, unadulterated, uninhibited mindset of a four-year old than the following anecdote:
We were on the elevator back down to the parking lot today, after Ava's (very successful, tears-free, cavity-free) dental visit this morning. She was full of post-appointment swag from the Dentist's highly coveted basket-o-goodies, ranging from a chintzy rainbow heart bracelet to an eraser in the shape of a tooth, and was pleasantly admiring them. We were only traveling from the third floor down to the first, so the whole trip was less than 30 seconds total.
As the elevator bell went "Ding!" to signify the end of our journey, and the doors opened onto floor one, a crowd consisting of a mailman, an elderly woman with a cane, and an employee of the adjacent Auto Center waited patiently for us to exit the elevator and then stepped on themselves.
The whole walk out to the car, Ava covered her mouth, giggling copiously.
"What's so funny?" I asked her once, and then again.
She answered in more giggles, which soon evolved into uncontrollable belly laughter.
It wasn't until we were in the car, pulling out of the parking lot, that she stopped giggling long enough to let me in on the hilarity:
"Momma?"
"Yes?"
"Right before we got off the elevator....I tooted. Three times! And it really really stunk!!"
Showing posts with label farts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label farts. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Did everyone else miss the memo? Farts are HILARIOUS!
So let me start on a very positive note: As discussed last week, I have committed to a 3-day a week workout regimen, and today was a VERY successful day 1 of Yoga. (Wed. & Fri. will alternate between Zumba & Kickboxing classes, in case you were curious. Which clearly you are, otherwise you wouldn't be wasting your time on my blog.) Now please note that the weather in Boston today was miserable, dark, foggy, damp and raw....which constitute ideal "sit on the couch and watch TV all night" conditions. However my 3-day workout week doesn't allow for such trivial excuses, and so off to the gym I went. (Insert cheers & applause here).
I met Krista at the Yoga studio and, in the 5 minutes before class began, made my disclaimer that if anyone farted during this session, I would be overcome by uncontrollable laughter and to please avoid eye contact with me in any such event. (you should know that I have never actually attended a Yoga class before this, but have heard stories of Yoga-induced flatulence from others...) Krista assured me, "No, don't be silly. I'm sure most of these people have been coming for a while and can contain their gas!"
With that, we rolled out our mats and the class began. Dim lighting, obligatory instrumental versions of Enya songs as soundtrack, and everything seemed to be off to a great start. We did some pelvic tilts; some core strengthening exercises; some ankle, knee & hip rotations; some head and neck stress-releasing movements, and so fourth. (I apologize for not knowing all of the technical Yoga terms for these things yet.) Everything was going great, that was, until it was time for "The Frog." As SOON as the instructor told us, "Ok, now everyone relax your sphincters and squat slowly on the exhale," a middle-aged Asian woman 3 people to my right (and 2 people to Krista's right) let out a fart. Now this was not just your standard, everyday, run-of-the-mill fart. Because this fart occurred during a completely relaxed state, it was the perfect combination of bass & treble; it was the perfect pitch, the perfect density, the perfect volume, and the perfect blend of muffled hot air and highway rumble strips. It resonated in the massive studio, almost echoing in the exposed rafters 30 feet above. I was about to burst into hysterics....until I realized that EVERYONE ELSE in the studio was just going about their business as if nothing had happened. I gave it a few seconds, thinking that it would be a delayed reaction. But alas, silence. A bunch of yoga frogs sitting in their froggish, squatting pose, staring at their focal points completely unhindered by the PDF (Public Display of Flatulence) that had just occurred in this room. Even the farting culprit herself just carried on as if nothing had ever happened.
What kind of madness is this?! I wondered, feeling completely baffled by it all.
I don't care what kinds of holistic, earthy-crunchy, vegan yogis these folks may have evolved into over the past few decades....the truth is, they all started their lives as little children who laughed uncontrollably at farts in any capacity, I promise you this. And now, not ONE of the thirty-five people would share a chuckle with me over such hilarity? I was very put off by this, to say the least. All it would have taken was one person to look toward the farter with a wrinkled brow or disgusted look; just one brave soul to whisper a disgruntled "Uhhh, gross!" But alas, I was alone in my thoughts on the matter, and what good is something so funny if there's no one to share it with?!
So, that was turn-off number one for me this evening.
Number two: I can't tell you how many times the instructor said "sphincter" and "anus" and "buttock." (side-note, I loathe when people leave the "s" off of "buttocks." I feel like they think they are better than the rest of us or something..) Furthermore, as if the fart incident wasn't enough to fuel my inappropriate laughter, now I am stuck in a 1-hour long session with this instructor who feels the need to continuously use the phrases "loosen your sphincter" and "tighten up your buttock" -- and I'm not supposed to chuckle at this either?! (OK, in fairness, I did make eye contact with Krista during one of the aforementioned "sphincter" dialogues and she shared 1/2 a giggle with me.)
Number three: At one point, we had to extend our legs out at 45-degree angles, grab onto out ankles, and rock side to side. As if this "spread eagle" position on its own wasn't awkward enough, I had the pleasure of a 260 pound man in a way too tight vintage Budweiser t-shirt and short-shorts sitting directly across from me for the entire duration of this stretch. Lovely.
And last but not least, there was the ceiling incident. At the very end, we were all told to lay in "Corpse pose" and look up at the ceiling at a focal point, but to stay completely motionless & relaxed. Well leave it to me to focus in on an exposed pipe in the ceiling that perfectly resembles a 12-foot penis, complete with balls. Clearly, after the class that I've just endured, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back and I start silently laughing to myself, trying not to let the instructor see my chest rising and falling way faster than if I really were in the Savasan state that I am striving to achieve in this moment. My eyes fill with laughter-induced tears and I finally have to bite the inside of my cheek (practically off) to gain composure. Ultimately, I was finally able to achieve complete relaxation for about the last 45 seconds of class....and those 45 seconds actually, were very blissful indeed!
In conclusion, so long as I can learn to deal with the painfully boring, sense-of-humor-less bunch of folks with whom I will be sharing an hour of endless sphincter references, unadulterated flatulence, and gigantic pipe penises, I think this Yoga thing might just work out okay...we'll just have to wait and see :-)
I met Krista at the Yoga studio and, in the 5 minutes before class began, made my disclaimer that if anyone farted during this session, I would be overcome by uncontrollable laughter and to please avoid eye contact with me in any such event. (you should know that I have never actually attended a Yoga class before this, but have heard stories of Yoga-induced flatulence from others...) Krista assured me, "No, don't be silly. I'm sure most of these people have been coming for a while and can contain their gas!"
With that, we rolled out our mats and the class began. Dim lighting, obligatory instrumental versions of Enya songs as soundtrack, and everything seemed to be off to a great start. We did some pelvic tilts; some core strengthening exercises; some ankle, knee & hip rotations; some head and neck stress-releasing movements, and so fourth. (I apologize for not knowing all of the technical Yoga terms for these things yet.) Everything was going great, that was, until it was time for "The Frog." As SOON as the instructor told us, "Ok, now everyone relax your sphincters and squat slowly on the exhale," a middle-aged Asian woman 3 people to my right (and 2 people to Krista's right) let out a fart. Now this was not just your standard, everyday, run-of-the-mill fart. Because this fart occurred during a completely relaxed state, it was the perfect combination of bass & treble; it was the perfect pitch, the perfect density, the perfect volume, and the perfect blend of muffled hot air and highway rumble strips. It resonated in the massive studio, almost echoing in the exposed rafters 30 feet above. I was about to burst into hysterics....until I realized that EVERYONE ELSE in the studio was just going about their business as if nothing had happened. I gave it a few seconds, thinking that it would be a delayed reaction. But alas, silence. A bunch of yoga frogs sitting in their froggish, squatting pose, staring at their focal points completely unhindered by the PDF (Public Display of Flatulence) that had just occurred in this room. Even the farting culprit herself just carried on as if nothing had ever happened.
What kind of madness is this?! I wondered, feeling completely baffled by it all.
I don't care what kinds of holistic, earthy-crunchy, vegan yogis these folks may have evolved into over the past few decades....the truth is, they all started their lives as little children who laughed uncontrollably at farts in any capacity, I promise you this. And now, not ONE of the thirty-five people would share a chuckle with me over such hilarity? I was very put off by this, to say the least. All it would have taken was one person to look toward the farter with a wrinkled brow or disgusted look; just one brave soul to whisper a disgruntled "Uhhh, gross!" But alas, I was alone in my thoughts on the matter, and what good is something so funny if there's no one to share it with?!
So, that was turn-off number one for me this evening.
Number two: I can't tell you how many times the instructor said "sphincter" and "anus" and "buttock." (side-note, I loathe when people leave the "s" off of "buttocks." I feel like they think they are better than the rest of us or something..) Furthermore, as if the fart incident wasn't enough to fuel my inappropriate laughter, now I am stuck in a 1-hour long session with this instructor who feels the need to continuously use the phrases "loosen your sphincter" and "tighten up your buttock" -- and I'm not supposed to chuckle at this either?! (OK, in fairness, I did make eye contact with Krista during one of the aforementioned "sphincter" dialogues and she shared 1/2 a giggle with me.)
Number three: At one point, we had to extend our legs out at 45-degree angles, grab onto out ankles, and rock side to side. As if this "spread eagle" position on its own wasn't awkward enough, I had the pleasure of a 260 pound man in a way too tight vintage Budweiser t-shirt and short-shorts sitting directly across from me for the entire duration of this stretch. Lovely.
And last but not least, there was the ceiling incident. At the very end, we were all told to lay in "Corpse pose" and look up at the ceiling at a focal point, but to stay completely motionless & relaxed. Well leave it to me to focus in on an exposed pipe in the ceiling that perfectly resembles a 12-foot penis, complete with balls. Clearly, after the class that I've just endured, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back and I start silently laughing to myself, trying not to let the instructor see my chest rising and falling way faster than if I really were in the Savasan state that I am striving to achieve in this moment. My eyes fill with laughter-induced tears and I finally have to bite the inside of my cheek (practically off) to gain composure. Ultimately, I was finally able to achieve complete relaxation for about the last 45 seconds of class....and those 45 seconds actually, were very blissful indeed!
In conclusion, so long as I can learn to deal with the painfully boring, sense-of-humor-less bunch of folks with whom I will be sharing an hour of endless sphincter references, unadulterated flatulence, and gigantic pipe penises, I think this Yoga thing might just work out okay...we'll just have to wait and see :-)
Monday, August 24, 2009
It wasn't me-- I swear!
Fun tidbit of my day: I was holding Gav in my arms this afternoon while trying to leave an important voice-mail message for someone I don't know so well. While leaving said message, he farted atleast 4 times in a row. REALLY loud. Definitely loud enough to have been left on the voice-mail message. The person for whom I was leaving the message has no clue that I have kid(s). Excellent!
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