Wind. By wind I mean farts, bottom burps, an air attack, a bum and flutter, a chunder, an SBD. I have a big list. The problem is this. I fart. Every morning soon after waking I fart. Very loudly. I can't help it. It's something I do. There is no smell but it is like a small bugle band in my own bedroom. I have done this for years. In fact I can't stop it. Or so I thought. Then I met Hot Date. Let's be serious here for one moment. Imagine the mood the morning after a night of passion or even the morning of passion. You cannot under any circumstances let rip with gusto. You cannot let rip at all. So what do you do? How do you hold farts in? I have no idea but I seem to have mastered the technique. All this without having to adopt a silly walk of clenched buttocks as I disappear out of the room backwards to a far away part of the house to let rip of a triple thunder flutter. At first it was only when he was here. Then it seemed to spread to every day of the week. I was silently triumphant. I had controlled my wayward wind bags. The morning bugle party is no more. Or so I thought. Given I knew that I could break the sound barrier I felt after some time that it would only be fair to forewarn poor Hot Date that Concorde indeed had not just flown past it was me, just in case the incident ever arose that I did just let one off accidentally.
(This is particularly true now as I am getting older and farts can just slip out without warning. So I thought being up front and honest about it would make it better. But no. He doesn't fart, ever, it would appear, particularly in front of the kids or anyone else for that matter. This comes a shock to me. My family was raised on good fart humour. My mother spent years tying to decipher what food made Grumps farts so bleedin' toxic - ice cream in case you are interested. My father used to do the most amazing SBD's and then refuse to wind the window down in the car. We even have a fart machine that my 5 year old nephew loves. To us there is nothing like a good fart followed by a good laugh. Whoopee Cushions are a must on everyone's Christmas list. Since Hot Date has revealed his non fart status my bowels have rebelled. Let me out, they seem to cry every morning. The bugles are back with a vengeance. I know any time soon that one day, early in the morning I will hear shrieking as he is blasted to the other side of the bedroom by my billowy bowels. Oh the shame.