Fireside Chat

It's been about 3 years since I wrote on this.  Whoops.  Have since gotten a few different jobs, bought a home, gotten married and become a stepmom.  That's for another post.


Tonight has made me chuckle quite a bit to myself, but I have the tendency to crack myself up.  Truth be told: I have fairly bad gas.  Not something I'm relishing in making public, but it happens to everyone.  So, anyway--back to my story.

I am a "newlywed", which I only put quotations around simply because it seems like a term for younger couples, not us.  Whatever.  We have a fireplace and the very   second the temperature drops below 70 we are searching for firewood.  In fact, we probably should have gotten married in the winter so people would have been able to give us firewood as a wedding gift.

As a kid I was a little tiny bit of a pyro.  Can anyone honestly say they were not?

So, growing up and having a fireplace that is purely natural is like a childhood dream come true.  I throw everything in there!  Magazines, junk mail, old receipts, etc.  Tonight I was honestly contemplating throwing in my empty bottle of wine just to see.

As I was putting another log on (the heat downstairs isn't working), I tooted.  I was by myself, it did not smell like roses and so I laughed out loud.  Then came the deja vu, back to being 19 and in the middle of nowhere in Alabama.  I was a freshman in college, a new pledge and we were on a pledge retreat at someone's friend's family's lawyer's financial advisor's lake house.  It was actually one of the better memories I have of being at the University of Alabama.

My friend from Augusta, Georgia, Gabby, showed a couple of us that farts really do light on fire.  We were all incredulous.  But sure enough, later on that night there were about 3 of us outside smoking cigarettes on the porch and Gabby exclaimed, "Watch, I wasn't kidding!"  Before we even have the chance to ask what the hell she means, she rolls on her back with her feet still Indian-style and puts the lighter right up against her bum.  Sure enough, POOF!  It was like magic or something!

I knew for a fact that nothing was going to be a hazard--jeans do not catch on fire.  But I can only think of about 3 other times in my life I have laughed that hard.  This Southern Belle was showing us how flammable human farts can be.  And she was farting at will!

Longest story in the world short: my husband and I were kinda getting into a heated discussion about something or other, and I again tooted.  It was quiet and kinda stinky, but he didn't say anything.  Normally he does, so I knew he was either madder than I estimated or drunk.  I was looking at the fireplace and felt a metaphorical blanket wrap around me.  I won't go into specific details of what was going through my mind, but it was enough to end whatever the issue was.

Despite growing up and becoming an actual "adult" with a home, a job, bills, kids and all that jazz, it doesn't hurt to let the comfort of being 19 and completely clueless with a couple of girlfriends, cigarettes and beer wash over you.  It puts things into perspective.  At least it does for me.  I guess I find comfort in this: I had no idea how good I had it, had no idea what the hell I was going to do with my life, but knew I was a member of a great family that would be horrified at lighting farts on fire, but happy that pure contentment came from that encounter.  Granted, it is not a story often told at holidays and one that would cause my dad to rub his head to make sure his part was nice and strong.

I'm 38 years old, and tonight the idea of getting my toosh closer to the fireplace to see what would happen actually crossed my mind.

Please feel free to judge me all you want.  But, hey, whatever works, right?


I HAVE MISSED WRITING AND HOPE SOMEONE READS THIS AND LAUGHS.