Ffffffbbbbpppbbbttt

While feeding a bottle to G as she sat on my lap the other day, I sensed that all too familiar vibration ripple on my thigh. As I pondered whether it was a dry fart or one with bonus features, I dare say a sly grin came across my daughter’s face. At that moment, I wanted to high five her.

Let’s be frank. Farts are funny. They sound funny. They smell funny. They are funny among friends and family. They are especially funny when occurring outside of friends and family. Well, okay, at least for me and anyone else with a juvenile sense of humor.

Just think about the word itself. FART. Could there possibly be another word that more appropriately fits its definition? “Flatulate” just doesn’t do it for me. I think queens and dukes “flatulate.” Normal folks fart. And Massholes fahht.

Usually, if a variety of euphemisms exists in lieu of a proper word, it’s a good indication that the proper word refers to a body part and/or bodily function. For example, penis and dong dong, vagina and vajajay, breasts and booby salad, scrotum and ball bag, defecate and poop, urinate and piss like a race horse, etc. Sorry, I digress.

As for farts, we’ve got a myriad of euphemistic substitutes for flatulence. One alternative is the polite “passing gas.” Then, there is the old school “breaking wind.” And, of course, don’t forget the 1980s elementary “cutting the cheese.” We even use euphemisms to temporarily distract bystanders within earshot of our gas passing such as the sincere “is that a squeaky board?” or the naturalist “did you hear that barking spider?”

Admittedly, I would classify myself as a quite gaseous person. Everything makes me fart. Beans of all sorts and pretty much any stereotypical Mexican food, no surprise. Frozen yogurt especially. Anything with garlic. Fresh fruit definitely. Multiple draft beers from dive bars, particularly. Wheat bread – no joke. For Gigi’s sake, I hope she didn’t get my colon. If she did, perhaps I write this to pre-empt some of the societal shame and embarassment of simply carrying out a function of the digestive system.

On a different note, farting is a good measuring stick to determine how tight you really are with a person. In other words, who is in your fart circle of trust? Is there really any better way of gauging how comfortable one feels in the company of another than to toot at will in their presence?

I released the hounds in front of the wife on our second date. I was tired of holding the gas in until it was safe to crop dust away. (We went out for pizza at Woody's.) I decided to cut to the chase (and the cheese, for that matter) by revealing my true gassy side. Fortunately, she didn’t hold it against me. And now we have our little girl.

So, G-Spice, I write this to you now. Thank you for letting me into your fart circle of trust. That is, at least while your diet is still just formula and rice cereal. Go ahead, pull my finger.