I made the terrible choice to eat three plates of beans during lunch at work. “Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight,” my husband exclaimed as he excitedly welcomed me home. After blindfolding me, he escorted me to my dining table seat. The phone rang as he was ready to take off the blindfold. After telling me not to look, he went to take the call.The strain became intolerable as the effects of the beans I had eaten began to take effect.
Letting go of a noisy leg that “smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk,” I grabbed the opportunity and moved my weight to one leg. In an attempt to get rid of the smell, I hastily picked up my napkin and spread the air about me. I moved to the other leg and quietly emitted three more, each worse than the last, feeling a little relieved.
“Worse than cooked cabbage,” the stench was.I let the gas out for a few more minutes, enjoying the relief, keeping my ears open to the conversation in the other room. Trying to look innocent, I put the napkin back on my lap, folded my hands, and fanned the air one last time as soon as I heard the phone call coming to an end.
My husband inquired if I had peeked and apologized for the wait.
I told him that I hadn’t. When he smiled and took off the blindfold, I was horrified to see that twelve dinner guests were sat around the table, all of them covering their noses while chanting, “Happy Birthday!”