Have you ever went through one of those early phases of marriage where your only goal is to pull pranks on your spouse or thoroughly gross them out? Where the highlight of your entire day is whether or not you embarrassed them. I would love to say my husband and I never went through that. Well, at least I didn’t. My husband on the other hand…Let’s just say this is one of those memories I’m still working hard to recover from.
In the early years of our marriage my husband took great pleasure in farting around me. Between the dutch ovens and the stuffy car, I was used to gagging to his laughter. He would even plant a SBD (Silent But Deadly) in our living room while my best friend was visiting. It was awful!
We were in our second year of marriage, living in our first apartment and adjusting to civilian life after my husband’s enlistment in the Navy was up. We lived close to a theater and on the weekends our activity of choice was usually going to the movies. This one Friday night after an argument over what to do, I won and he took me to see Spider-Man 2. (Remember the Tobey Maguire version)
Within the first 15 minutes of this movie, with a smirk, he starts ripping them off next to me. I’m determined to put a stop to this disgusting behavior so I ignore him. Like a toddler, if he doesn’t get what he wants, he will stop. Right?
I’m watching the movie to the sound of his low rumbles. When finally, he gets fed up. I’m not paying him the attention he’s craving. He’s not getting any faces from me, or sharp jabs to his arm. He leans in to me, lifts a cheek against my leg and proceeds to rip the loudest fart I have ever heard in my entire life, right during a silent part in the movie!
The sound of his flatulence echoes throughout the theater, rebounds off the walls and dies out in a blur of utter mortification. The entire audience turns to our secluded section against the wall, points fingers and starts to laugh. The laughter grows in intensity. I’m shocked, I’m angry and I’m so embarrassed I want to cry. I shrink into my seat! Even the people in the very back rows are laughing. I turn to my husband, hoping he’s ashamed, hoping that he’s going to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
He’s laughing! He’s laughing with the rest of the theater and I realize, “They all think it was me!”
In shame and in a violent sort of anger (I actually want to kill him), we finish the movie. I have nothing to say to him. For the first time in my life, the only words I can manage are, “I will never go to another movie with you again!”
I meant it! For nearly a year, I never saw another movie with him. I refused. I went with my best friend.
Our marriage did survive and the story has been told over and over again, immortalizing itself into our history. As for me, it took many hours in recovery consisting of wine, complaining to my girlfriends about how disgusting men are.
My husband never exactly apologized for it but I’m happy to say, it has never happened again.
At this very moment, my husband just read this post and he stated, “Honey, this will happen again!” Yikes!
