Driving around during my daily errand run, I see a lot of different bumper stickers. Some are political, some are humorous, and almost all of them reflect some character or personality of the driver. Naturally, this got me to thinking about the bumper sticker that I should put on my car. And I came up with the following:
"I made an Australian girl cry. Ask me how!"
There are two reasons for this idea. 1. It's eye-catching, even a conversation starter. 2. It's true.
Now let me explain. For some reason, when I travel, I get an excess of bodily toots (aka gas). I don't know if it's the food I eat, the stress that goes with traveling, or a combination of both, but I have been known to lay some real stinkers. The real problem is that there is usually no warning or indication that they are coming, so one minute I'm standing around and everything's fine. The next minute, I toot (usually in the proximity of some poor unsuspecting person), and the green gas spreads it's way through the crowd with some unpleasant results. While in the providence of Queensland, I had just finished breakfast and was walking out of the restaurant to meet up with Big Dave. Suddenly, a toot escaped. You couldn't hear it, but within a minute you sure could smell it. I happened to be passing by a family, and the little girl was the closest one to me. As I passed her, she sniffed, crinkled up her nose, then said (loudly), "Ewwww. Mommy, that stinks!" She then held her nose with one hand, and started to cry. Needless to say, I hurried out of the area. I don't know if they ever discovered it was me, but it was the first of many times that I have had similar reactions to my toots. I have made children cry in many different cities, in different parts of the country, from San Francisco to Savannah.
Now, I am not proud of this "talent". I know there has to be a way to get it to stop. But on rare occasions, it does come in handy. Take, for instance, last night. I was curled up on the couch with the dog. His head was towards my feet, and his tush was pointed at me. With no warning, he let let out a toot, and it was the nastiest smelling thing you can imagine. Like rotten eggs stewed in sulfur water. Not to be outdone, I reciprocated. He sniffed, recoiled, sneezed, then jumped down off the couch and tried to bury his nose in the hallway carpet -- probably to help his nose get rid of the smell. I then had the couch to myself for the rest of the night.
Hey, it may not be ladylike, but it does have it's advantages.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
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