The F Word.

13 11 2013

Once upon a time, about 15 years ago I worked in an insurance office. I had the glamorous job of selling car, travel and house insurance. It was as exciting as it sounds. (I can’t tell you how much I love my current job… if anything, it offers daily bouts of excitement and never ever a dull moment…)

I was around 7 months pregnant at that time with my first child. A client came in to renew his car insurance and I was the one who went to the counter to help him.

I lumbered over to where the decals were and as I leaned myself over to get a sticker, well… I farted. Loudly.

My client jumped a bit, his face clearly revealing his utter shock that I let one rip. His ensuing blush was so darn cute!

Now, all you ladies in the house who have grown babies in their uteruses (uterii?) can probably recall the absolute inability to control gaseous expulsions from one’s body. Quite honestly, it was either fart or be in agonizing pain for hours…. and I for one wasn’t willing to take one for the Manners Team. I came to accept this side effect of pregnancy with complete delight as I am one to ALWAYS find farts funny.

He looked so uncomfortable, this young man. I shrugged and looked him square in the eye and said “I’m pregnant. I can’t help it.” with absolutely no embarrassment on my part whatsoever. He chuckled a bit, signed his documents and left.

I like to think I did that young man a favour. Perhaps he went on to marry the love of his life and be completely OK with the fact that women fart.

Now, in retrospect I would never condone public farting, as it is certainly offensive to  many, but this just made me realize that we are far too worried about what others think if they happen to hear us accidentally let one go. And all I have to do is remind myself that like the sinners who could cast no stone, there shall be no judgment unless you have never yourself farted.

In closing, I urge you all to go forth and fart in peace.