Gassy Ass

Yup. A blog about farts.

There comes a time in every new relationship when, "it," happens. Farts. It's only a matter of time before someone busts one out. All a gal can do is pray it isn't her. And as a notoriously gassy gal (just ask my Seester), I prayed as hard as anyone could, to both sweet baby & standard size Jesus'. 

Despite my best effort & sincerest prayers, it happened last night. I busted ass so hard, you guys. Fortunately, it was in the wee hours of the morning & J was still asleep. Well, he claims he was asleep. I'm not sure how anyone could have slept through the amount of air that came out of my booty.

It must have been something we all had for dinner last night, because Aiden is fart-a-lish today, too. And Collin had some serious liquid fire poo this morning. And I have been miserable.all.day. I have been carrying around a for serious gas baby child.

J, Aiden & I made a trip to Target for diapers, milk & some Beano. $140 later, I was complaining in the car about how miserable I was, yet still had so much to do once we got back to the apartment. Dishes (J cooked an AMAZE meal) toy duty, laundry. Jacob's response? "You're boyfriend is in town. I am doing the dishes & toy duty. I'm a capable human. YOU ARE GONNA SIT YOUR GASSY ASS DOWN & BLOG!' 

You.guys.I.love.this.man.

I love that I'm not even embarrassed (ok, a little). I love that he isn't afraid to make fun of it & laugh at it with me. I love the, "motorcycle drove by," &, "covers blew off me," jokes. He took a potentially mortifying situation & made it a happy memory. This is a happy memory. About farts. 

And this is Manski washing dishes while my gassy ass blogs.