the Hippo Brigade

Resolving: Gas

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January 4, 2011

It’s the new year.

And everyone is talking about resolutions.

I’m going to loose 15 pounds.

I’m going to recycle more.

I’m going to have way more sex with my husband.

Those are all fine and good. And if you stick with them, you are a superb person and I commend you and all that skinny sex you’re going to be having. Because honestly, nothing kills the mood like some jiggly bits wagging around when you’re trying to get it on, am I right ladies?

But I’m not interested in that stuff.

I’m not going to resolve to take more pictures, or write more poetry, or use less plastic, or communicate my feelings more, or perfect my dinosaur when I doodle while I’m on the phone with my mom, because she’s boring me to tears, and I have to do something with my hands, because if I don’t distract at least 34% of my brain, I might start to disagree with her, and I don’t want to fight in front of the children. Because that would lead to me shouting inappropriate words, and then “EARMUFFS!!” EARMUFFS Berlyn! Mommy is having an adult conversation about with Mimi and it’s making me all sweary and hostile!”

And I just don’t need the mom-argument right now.

It’s the new year. New beginnings, and new adventures.

So instead of all that I’m relegating to resolve my gas.

You heard me right.

I’m going to try to fart less.

We all do it.

Don’t give me that look. I can tell you’re doing it right now.

You’re not fooling anyone when you lean over to pick up something you accidentally dropped.

If you’re a lady, you’d prefer people to think you don’t fart. And you certainly don’t want to talk about it.

But I’m going to talk about it, because it’s starting to impact my social life.

Farting at home is all well and good. but when you’re out and about, it’s down right rude.

Like when i was at Ikea the other day and I was hungry and decided to eat Ikea food.

This was my first mistake. And the way my body handled the situation, was just plain offensive.

I tried the “walk-off”

You know, when you fart, and then walk around really fast and hope it doesn’t follow you.

And then when that didn’t work, I tired to blame it on my kids when other people were within ear (and nose) shot.

“Oh Berlyn that was stinky!”

But Berlyn is smart.

“Mom, that was YOU! You TOOTED!! HA-HA-HA MOMMY TOOTED!!”

Not only was my tummy mildly upset, but I was also being publicly humiliated by a 3-year-old.

So this year, I’ve decided that enough is enough, and I’m not going to fart.

Which means I’ll have to stop talking and eating legumes.

And I’ll probably have to cut out dairy and certain types of meat.

And I’ll probably have to stop eating whole grains and broccoli.

And I’ll have to stop drinking wine.

So in an effort to preserve my resolution and the noses of those around me.

I’ll just going to eat white rice and not say a word.

But like most resolutions, I have a feeling that this one won’t stick.