I am woman, hear my rectum

So, something happened the other night as I slumbered at Cowboy's grandmother's (his GRANDMOTHER’S! PG thoughts, please). 

And just as a forewarning, I wasn’t going to post this... but I feel its my obligation, nay, responsibility as a woman and a blogger to let these issues air. Women have come a long way since the days of corsets, voting rights and emergence into the workplace. But the lives of men and women are not equal. No, no, no. Not until we can pee standing up, will we achieve equal pay and equal stature. It’s all about the bowels.  

Anyways, Cowboy wakes every morning at 5. And at 5:08, 5:15, 5:23 and 5:30. 

In the midst of the 5:15 to 5:23 slumber, at his grandmother’s house, mind you, I did one of the most terribly awful, no good, downright disgusting things a girlfriend can do. This was worse than stealing all his ex's e-mails and sending viruses to make their iTunes play MMMBop over and over. And much more horrifying.  

I farted.

Not even kidding. Air attack, anal acoustics, after dinner mint-- whatever you want to call it. I did it. Seriously, I'm not even sure why he hasn't dumped me yet.

It wasn’t the silent kind or the one you can pass off on the dog or the house settling or something. It was a rip resembling a ketchup bottle almost empty.

Kind, sweet Cowboy said nothing and feigned sleep. 

I'm in the clear, I thought, unmoving, pretending to snooze and promising to yodel for Jesus if only to keep the smell away.

Cowboy didn’t say anything that morning. He went to work and I too did my... business. 

But Cowboy's generosity lasted only until evening when he met me for burgers and quizzed me on the after-effects of our shrimp dinner the night before.

"I've been gassy all day," he said. "Did you feel that way too?"

That’s the thing about boys. They can totally toot and the world applauds. But should a lady break wind, you might as well give her facial hair and remove her uterus. She is no longer female.  

"NO," I said, a little too eagerly. "But maybe that's because I ate a handful whereas you consumed ohh... the entire Pacific Ocean."

"Maybe," he said.

So later, just as our food arrived and our starving bodies could re-nourish, Cowboy blows the gasket.  

“So last night, I don’t know if you remember, but I think I heard you...”

Horrified and no longer hungry, I blamed the cat. I blamed the bed spring. I even blamed a drive-by shooting. But since his grandmother lives near nothing, he knew it wasn't true. 

"You don't have to make a stink about it," he said. "I thought this was proof of our comfort with each other. Why are you so embarrassed?"

"You couldn't be a gentleman and not mention it?" I asked. "I would never do that to you. I would NEVER-EVER-NOT-IN-A-MILLION-YEARS-HERE,-AT-HOME-OR-IN-MY-BLOG tell anyone something like that. I don’t even SAY the word ‘fart.’ Musical butts belong unspoken."

"Sorry..." he said.

I shouldn't blame him. Where he comes from, parents teach their children to pull fingers and belch the ABCs. 

Many people may blush or say "excuse me." But at the sound of oral and anal emissions, one local 2-year-old instead says "beeeep." Which is funny and cute until men in their 30s fart out loud ON PURPOSE just to hear the child’s response. 

I'm pretty sure the only other human to hear such a babel from my backside is my brother. And since we’re getting all share-y here, I should probably tell you that back then, I did it on purpose, and... on his head. Sorry brother.

I only find the audacity to write this from dooce.com and her recent post: http://www.dooce.com/2009/11/09/featured-community-question

And from my mom, who said her coworkers had a conversation about colon calamities and how they were such a faux pas. Well, ladies, it’s time to be silent no longer. We will pass gas and men will hear it.  

So I tooted. And then I blogged about it. It’s like my generation’s way of burning bras. 

So dear readers, it’s time to air it out, shoot the shit, make cheese. Are women still feminine if they fart? What if they just TALK about farting? Do you pass gas in front of your man or does your lovely lady launch a wiffer in front of you? And if so, is it cute, gross, sexy? What do you think?