Farting after 50.

Scarlett O'Hara and I have a lot in common.

1) Our mothers raised us to be ladies.

2)  Most of that training didn't take in either of us.

3)  We'd very much like to be thought of as great ladies, even if we don't act like it.

4) We both drink coffee.  (Which really has nothing to do with the point I'm making in this blog, but any similarity I can muster between myself and Scarlett is a good one.)

 How on earth do we get from Scarlett O'Hara to the title subject of farting?

Well, here it is:

 Try as we might to be ladies, Scarlett and I ultimately fail at one thing; containing our bodily noises, such as belching, hiccupping, and yes, farting.

If you recall the movie  (because everyone has SEEN "Gone with the Wind," RIGHT?) you'll recall two instances in the film where Scarlett releases bodily air. The first is right before the party at 12 Oaks when she belches and says, "I just don't know how I'll get through the day without belching."  The second is after her second husband's funeral when she's drowning her sorrows in brandy and she hiccups.


I feel her pain.

My husband and I have been together since we were 18.    I'd been taught it was very unladylike, nay, it was socially horrifying, to allow the body to make any sort of noise other than speech.  Coughing and sneezing were allowed but only very rarely. Everything else MUST BE SUPPRESSED in the interest of manners.

What this meant was that all the time we were dating, and for the better part of our marriage, I did not belch or fart in Hubby's presence. In fact, the whole time we were dating, I didn't use the bathroom on a date.  I waited until I got home. Or, if we were visiting his mother, I would only go when I said I was showering, then, under cover of the running water, I would allow myself some relief.


Sure, this lead to some real discomfort on my part, but I WAS A LADY.


I should also mention that I didn't EAT like I do now in front of my husband. I ate like a little bird. Small everything. Small fries, small order of whatever, small diet coke.  I have that in common with Scarlett, too.  She didn't get to eat a proper meal (thanks to the manners of the day and, you know, the WAR) in front of a man until her honeymoon with husband #3.

As I think about it, I feel a bigger kinship with Ms. Scarlett about all these silly social mores we have to follow (or we did...I have no idea how dating and courtship and all that works now. My kids mock me all the time.)  I mean, Scarlett was sixteen when she was widowed for the first time. And society said she COULDN'T dance?  Oh yeah, I was raised in a "no dancing society" too!  AND MUCH LIKE Ren from "Footloose," Neither Scarlett nor I could stop our dancing feet!

 Oh, wait. I'm not talking about dancing. I'm talking about farting.

 Well here's my point: Now that I'm fifty plus, I've decided it's time to be real. I mean, once you've given birth in front of your husband believe me, all the mystery and about 90% of the romance is shot.  (Young mothers to be take note:  you will poop on the delivery table.  You will.  It will happen.  Maybe not with the first kid, but it will. And you will feel horrible about it. And your husband will never look at you the same.  And THIS is why you SHOULD NOT videotape a live birth.  It's not beautiful, it's not magical, it's blood and screaming and POOP.  I can't get anyone to watch my wedding video and I looked like a FREAKING FAIRY PRINCESS IN THAT!)

Wait, back to farting. Anyway, now that I'm beyond the half century mark, I'm just letting the air leave my body anyway it sees fit. Belching?  Sure, hiccups, why not?  Farting...oh good lord, someone open a window and let me be free!

 Many nights hubby and I sit side by side on our leather furniture and fart and belch. And here's what's funny about leather furniture. It does NOT absorb sound. Nope, it amplifies it. So we're sitting there watching "NCIS" (because that's what people in their 50's do) and it's like the tuba section of a college marching band in our living room.  Sometimes we say, "Oh, excuse me." But, after all these years together, really, we perfectly comfortable with each other's noises.

That does NOT mean we share a toothbrush.  I'll harmonize with him while we break wind together, but I'm not sharing a tooth brush. That's just...gross.

But other that not sharing a toothbrush...we're solid. So, kids, take it from Sarah and Scarlett:  The secret to a happy marriage is being able to let gas and air leave your body however it wishes to.

Yeah, because Rhett and Scarlett stayed together forever, right?  She ate, belched, they farted together and they lived happily ever after...right?

They didn't?

Oh...hm...maybe I need to rethink this...

Man, just when I was getting comfortable!