My father farts. A lot.
At home and in public places.
He's polite about it.
He says "Excuse me" beforehand. Which makes it worse because once he mutters those words you pause, look at him and start to ask "Excuse you for what?" but sometime before the "what" part of that sentence crosses your lips your ears are assaulted with the noise of his gas.
"Da-ad! Why don't you just fart like a normal person and act like it didn't happen or blame it on someone or something else?"
"Okay, excuse me that guy over there just stepped on a duck"
Dad you just stepped on fowl a lot bigger than that. Or should I say foul.
When I got married to my husband I was amazed to hear the sound of him peeing so audibly each morning. I don't ever remember hearing the sound of my father peeing as a child. Did my mom make him sit down to pee so that he wouldn't be offensive? The three of us lived in a 900 sq ft home with only one bathroom. Why didn't I ever hear him pee?
I did hear him fart however.
I haven't lived with my parents in almost 20 years but if I am out in public and I smell a fart, I immediately look around for my dad, who lives 3,000 miles away. His timing was impeccably bad. He could be outside doing yard work for hours on end, only to walk into our tiny house as we were sitting down to dinner, mutter "Excuse me" and let loose a "ffffttttthhhh" as we scurried out of the way.
It infuriates my mother almost as much as a Sunday paper without the coupon inserts.
Yesterday afternoon two realtors, a home inspector, the couple that is buying our home, plus their two children and grandma came into our home. I made sure my children had on nice clothes, their hair was brushed and I instructed them "These people are buying our home. They are coming to inspect it today. Please be good"
Everyone filtered into the kitchen and was making polite small talk. I heard a deafening "FFFFTTTTTHHHHHH" sound and the room went silent. I looked out into the hall and expected to see my Dad there.
Instead I found a four year old girl who decided that a home inspection was a fine time to unleash the wonder of the Whoopee Cushion.
I excused myself, asked Cakes to put away her toy and grabbed the cordless phone to call my father.
You could hear him laughing and farting.