My Skirt Blows, But There is No Breeze
// June 19th, 2007 // Real Life //
Confession #221…I will not pass gas in front of my husband.
Yes, we are married. Yes, we’ve been together almost 9 years. No, I refuse to let him hear the sound of my farts.
I realize this makes me a total freak in the world of married gals. My playgroup buddies have gotten quite a laugh out of this, and the Queen in particular likes to rib me about it. They all pass gas in front of their men, many of them will leave the bathroom door open and do all kinds of things while in the same room.
I just. can’t. do. it.
Don’t get me wrong, he has heard me before. You can’t sleep in the same bed with someone and NOT hear them let them out as they snore. And it’s not that he would even have a problem with it. God knows he has no problem doing it in front of me. (As loud as he lets them go I suppose you could say he has no problems doing it in front of the neighbors also.) I just can’t. I will literally get up and go to another room if I think it will be too loud to conceal. And if the are really smelling bad, I will find something to do elsewhere.
So there you have it, my confession of What’s Under My Sk*rt. You won’t hear it, but if my skirt’s a blowin’, you’ll be a knowin’!
Speaking of things that go on below skirt level, check out our fiber supplement review over at Suburban Reviews!
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