Crappy New Year*

This comes as a result of a conversation with the ultra cool and lovely Wendy (Inside The Wendy House) on Twitter where we were joking about our fondness for a bit of ‘toilet humour’.  Wendy made a joke that we should start a blog hop and what she would call it and a couple of other lovely bloggers (Super Amazing Mum and Ghost Writer Mummy) joined in with some funny stories.  So, that was the birth of 'Toilet Tuesday'.

Join in the childish Toilet Tuesday (yes I know it's Monday still!) fun now on Wendys blog.

I think most people enjoy a bit of toilet humour (even if they don’t openly admit it), giggling like school children when someone ‘lets one go’ by accident.  When I was growing up one of my favourite programmes was The Young Ones, much to my mothers disgust, then as I got older I loved Bottom.  Says it all really.  

It’s surprising then to learn that was actually in a relationship for almost 7 years with a man who hated flatulence.  In those 7 years I actually only broke wind in front of him twice.   I still, to this day, wonder how I managed to get through all that time without breaking wind in his company.  It’s a wonder I didn’t become a victim of spontaneous human combustion!

The last time I did float an air biscuit in front of him I remember so vividly.  We were walking back home hand in hand in the early hours of the morning on New Years day after enjoying a party at a friend’s house when it started snowing.  There weren’t many people about as it was about 4am – yes, there once was a time when I could arrive home with the milkman – it was so beautiful.   Almost picture perfect, like something from a movie.  He stopped me and pulled me in close and told me how much he loved me.  Perfect I hear you say.  Well, it would have been if, when he kissed me and cuddled me, I hadn’t expelled a loud gassy noise from my derrière.  He dropped me like a hot brick and called me disgusting.  Of course this just made me laugh and the more indignant he got about it, the harder I laughed (and the amount of cider and vodka I’d consumed didn’t help).  We walked home the rest of the way in complete silence.  Happy...or should I say Crappy New Year!

* I would just like it noted that I only farted, I did not crap myself but 'crappy' was the best idea I had for a post title at the time of posting :-)