I went out to eat Indian the other night with a friend. Partly, it was a nice way to toast goodbye to one of the internet boys… he was Indian. Nothing against Indians, but it was my sick twisted humor in going to eat Indian and secretly toasting goodbye to him… in style.
Upon coming home, I could feel my stomach start to explode. It was so full of air, it felt like I had grown a soccer ball within 10 minutes. Gas. Lovely. And goodness.. .they were not good smelling ones either! I would fart and have to walk away from the nastiness.
I make it to bed, laying in the fetal position holding my gassy tummy. Oh it hurt so bad. And it felt like no matter how much I would fart, it wouldnt be any better any time soon.
I toss & turn. Convinced Im ready to die. I finally lay on my back and get as comfy as I think I possibly can get in this pain.
And I let a ripper of a fart go. I knew it would be best to grab the blanket and wave it up and down to let the smell go from the sheets (as if you havent done that before, come on..) but I decide it probably smells too nasty to do that. So I just laid there…knowing what lurked under the sheets.
All of a sudden, Little Miss (who sometimes get called Tigger cuz she bounces all over the place when shes busy) jumps on the bed in such a spot that the damn doona waves and lets the nasty smell out… right to me…..
Lesson? Just air out the sheets..you just never know who is going to come bouncing on your bed, and then its just 3 times as bad…. seriously.
Little Miss… gotta love her!