And this is how it went: at first, great. We got the table cleared (not carefully, stuff just went all over), moved it over by the sink, and I grabbed our victim, Wade, and led him to the kitchen. “Ta da!” screamed Sandy, holding out both arms. While I settled him on the table, she dashed into the bathroom and returned with an armful of bottles and cloths and whatevers. He had wrapped a towel around him in place of the blanket we’d covered him with. The blanket was now draped artfully around the base of the toilet. Let’s be real, these things happen and they’re actually rather important, especially if you’re going to spend a lifetime with someone. How long were you with someone before you felt safe enough to fart?
As Sandy gathered her supplies, I helped Wade up onto the table with his he
