Flatulence and fart babies…

So, a fellow blog buddy was inviting us to join a debate with the topics of her choosing and allow us to duke it out two by two. I was all set to go head to head on the topic I was given (admittedly, I didn’t really stand a chance considering my first attempt was pro rather than the con I was assigned). However, I will never know. I went to attempt to sway myself from the opinion, I so convincingly convinced myself of the first time around (a daunting task on its own) when I discovered there would be no epic battle or debate as some of her followers took offense. Tis a shame.

Needless to say, I am going to post my original argument (the pro) as I never really got around to the con. It’s been kind of busy this last week and a half, and I will probably not be posting in a while until this conference I’ve been working on is over. I can’t wait. So, to my sparring partner, if you happen to read this post,  you will discover that I pretty much concede to you and your pro argument as well. I couldn’t really convince myself of the cons because I did such a good job arguing for the pro…lawl.


This is an interesting topic to tackle, and I find myself conflicted on this issue. There’s a part of me that still giggles at fart jokes and let’s face it, when you have the power to clear out a room with a single poof, there’s a part of you that’s kind of proud. There are also those moments when you’ve been holding it in all day, for professional reasons, and the sweet release at the end of the day really brings about a sense of accomplishment and relief all bundled up in one gaseous ball of joy. There are also those low grumbly movements of gas and when released, it’s quite amusing to look around questionably with a slight look of fear in the eyes and simply state, bear?!
I suppose the real issue lies in the fact romantic partners may not find flatulence quite so entertaining nor take part in your celebrations of achievement. My mother once told me her farts smelled like roses, so there was no need to scoff when she was unable to hold in her “delicate bundles of gas,” and this was seriously what she called her farts; truth-fact. When I offered this explanation to one of my partners at their disdain of my outward expression of my flatulence and the sense of accomplishment that naturally came with it; they were not amused and proceeded to give me the stink-eye. There are definitely those moments where even my own eyes would water at the stench and vileness, but part of me is still pretty impressed at how fast a room empties out. These usually bring up comments like, “what did you have to eat today!?!?” or even “You should really get that checked out!” The second comment/question got me thinking how would that conversation go with your doctor? A little research revealed that these conversations actually do take place!
Doctor: How long have you noticed a problem with flatulence?
Underground Dude: Well, I think problem is kind of a strong word. Don’t you? It is, after-all, a natural bodily function. Quite frankly, I think the actual problem lies in the fact we’re not willing to talk or dialogue about it. We’re so quick to exit the room when it comes up―well, I suppose that terminology isn’t really accurate―so, when it comes out the bum we should embrace flatulence rather than fear it.
Doctor: What about the frequency and volume of flatus?
Underground Dude: I don’t know maybe about a dozen times a day. I count the bigger more impressive ones twice though.
Doctor: That sounds about normal. Do you swallow air often?
Underground Dude: What!?
Doctor: Swallowed air is the major source of gas in the upper gastrointestinal tract. In most cases of excessive belching and excessive flatulence there is no underlying pathology and the situation probably represents an acquired habit.
Underground Dude: Wait a minute, you’re telling me I can swallow air and this would induce my very own fart babies? Air is unscented; therefore, these fart babies would be unscented. OR, what if I were to swallow air whilst spraying a minty fresh mist or even a rose flavored spray. MY GOD! My mother very well may have had rose scented gas…IT IS POSSIBLE!
Doctor: That’s not quite where I was going with that, you see—
Underground Dude: That’s all I needed to know Doc! I think you may have just saved my love life!
So, now I can still entertain myself and giggle at flatulence without offending my future romantic prospect or mate’s sense of smell!
Alright, alright. Maybe not; However, the time in a relationship when both parties are so comfortable with each other that it’s o.k. to let one go and it doesn’t signal the end of the world/relationship. When that sweet yet bitter release comes without severe repercussion (sure, they may scowl at some of your gas products that come with a particular vile stench, but there is always laughter to follow); it’s a beautiful thing. It’s even more beautiful when you’re so comfortable, you engage in a competition to see who can have the cutest fart baby.