One morning, as soon as I got in the car, with all the boys already inside, a waft of foul odor filled the air, and everyone started fainting. OK, I’m kidding. But we definitely held our breaths in hopes that whatever it was would go away fast.
“Eaww!” everyone howled in between bursts of laughter. We quickly rolled down our windows.
Mickey, seated beside me, was very amused. That was a clear giveaway.
There was certainly hydrogen sulfide in there. Sulfur is always the culprit.
While we were still gasping for oxygen, Mickey popped(!) the question, “Do you ever smell your own fart?... I like to know my own product.”
“They all smell the same,” I said, chuckling.
“No,” I heard opposing voices. “It depends on what you ate.”
“Oh yeah,” I agreed. Some go unnoticed, some are just horrid.
“How come you like your own stink but not others’?” Mickey asked.
Beats me. On and on went the lively discussion around a stinking topic.
Just before I dropped off Gabriel and Markus at Lena Shaw, another malodorous breeze left us squirming.
“That is worse than crap!” Markus yelled.
Gas – whatever is the reason for its being? Aside from being a normal function of our digestive system, I think it serves to remind us that we are just as human as the next person. It does not respect anyone.