It all started with a DVD selection around one month into our relationship.
It didn’t seem like a serendipitous choice at the time but it might have been the catalyst that set us up for a happier union.
A comedy. A fairly average Will Ferrell movie if I recall correctly. But we’d had Indian for dinner prior and that made all the difference.
I’d spent the first four weeks of our courtship tightly clenching and making tactical detours whenever I felt the need to, well, release. But I was caught off guard by one of the only amusing jokes in the film. As I let out an uproarious laugh something else slipped out, much to my horror.
My first fart in front of a boyfriend. What a milestone.
I tried to ignore it and pass it off as a squeaky couch spring but there was no fooling him. Despite cracking a few jokes he was, much to my surprise, not phased in the slightest.
While some might think that honesty around these kinds of bodily functions is plain bad manners or even the end of romance, I’m inclined to believe it’s just the beginning.