(He pretended for the camera like we forced him to play tea party, but he set it all up on his own while Sylvia was off stealing his trains)
So I almost ripped one in front of her tonight and you know I wasn't even stressed about it! There's just something about someone farting on front of you that automatically removes so many social rules. It's almost like skipping the introduction of an essay and writing whatever the hell you want. It's just like that. We can do and say whatever in front of each other now because she farted. Not really, but it's liberating that way in this relationship and any tension that might have been just blew away with her flatulence that first night.
***
I remember the first time Mike ripped one in front of me. We were in Oregon with his friends for a snowboarding trip. We were out on the balcony not making out for a change. I was actually painting his toe nails this amazing color of powder blue. I know, typical evening, right? He is standing on one leg with his other bent with his foot on a tall stool. Then it happened.
waaaaaaaaaaaaaIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
It was loud and long and almost musical.
In a courting relationship it's either so new that something like that would disgust the other person enough to never return calls. Or you're past the getting to know you niceties and find a way for it to be funny.
It felt like we were frozen in time as I stood there holding the nail polish brush. If farts shot BB pellets I would have gotten one right in the eye. I stood up immediately in the dark and wondered where we go with this. THIS. And before I could process what just happened 2 inches from my face, he announced 'um....you might want to go inside'.
I burst out laughing and then painted his other foot. Mostly because of how he responded to such an awkward situation, but also because in my mind I imagined how hard it must have been (impossible even) to try and squeeze that baby in standing as he was. And for some reason someone else's embarrassment is one of the most hilarious things for me to witness. My stomach tightens and my face explodes and I cry tears at the expense of someone else. It's an illness, really. Ask Mike's sister- she'll tell you. I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard when that homeless man in SF sang to her. About how he wanted to make love to her. While a million people stood in line with us waiting for cable cars. I'm sorry. I really should try to change.
***
Evan asked our respite care provider about her teeth again. He has this habit of asking the same thing over and over even after you give him an answer. I heard him on repeat with this one while I put Sylvia to bed. I had a good talking to with him tonight alone after she left about not asking her about her teeth anymore. Which led to his next habit- the endless series of 'why?' questions. Which causes you to realize nothing really makes any sense the more you try to explain it.
Also, she asked me if my husband was a truck driver. I thought that was...(finding a word)........awesome. No one has ever asked me that before. I think I like her more and more every day.
