Egg Alert

In body flow class today, someone let one rip. It was a real cheek flapper, and it reverberated off the mirrored wall. I could see how a fart might be necessary in body flow, which is a combination of yoga and Pilates. You use a bit of core strength in that class, and with all that lower abdominal squeezing, it is possible to feel a gas build up or even dislodge a tampon, if you are doing it right. Now, I understand that sometimes you have to let that fart out, although I have yet to hear of anyone exploding because they held one in. If that were the case, then mothers in law all across the Bible belt would be exploding left and right. Just because the class is called body flow doesn’t mean you should let all your body functions flow too. It’s not like you don’t know you are going to fart. Maybe you should show a little decorum or common courtesy, and for God’s sake, pull back a little.

That flatulent emission reminded me of my recent trip to Disney World. My family and I experienced clouds of toxic ass gas at every single theme park in the Walt Disney World complex. We walked through them in stores. We got trapped in them in attraction lines. We smelled them just moving from one area to another. I get it; the food at Disney World is a little richer perhaps than what you are accustomed to eating at home. Not to mention all that popcorn and ice cream available everywhere you turn. What is worse than a popcorn fart? Except maybe a dairy fart, you lactose intolerant Mickey Dove Bar eater.

Every family has a signal for the passage of gas, right? Some people blame it on the dog, although we all know that if dogs farted that much, they would need a visit to the veterinarian or a change in diet, or, at the very least, a doghouse. Grandpas and fathers everywhere play the “pull my finger” game, as if that somehow made farting in front of others a legitimate pursuit. At my sister’s house, they say, “huh-huh,” with the stress on the second huh, pronounced in a French accent. I always picture my nephew wearing a beret and twirling a pencil thin handlebar mustache when he says it.

My family has taken a liking to the expression “egg alert.” I cannot even begin to tell you how many times those words were uttered at Disney World. It wasn’t like we actually witnessed an episode of flatulence. We never saw a seated person lift one cheek, nor did we ever actually hear a loud blast, not even a tiny squeaker. But we did encounter the olfactory evidence, and we delighted in screaming “egg alert” as a warning to everyone nearby, much to the horror of my husband, who is not above the "pull my finger" game himself.

Now, my question to all the Disney patrons out there who feel completely comfortable farting at the first intestinal spasm is this: Didn’t your mama teach you any better? What happened to excusing yourself and doing your business in the restroom? Have you seen how many restrooms there are in Disney? You don’t need to leave your mustard gas bomb in your Peter Pan ship. There is a bathroom right outside of the ride.

I agree, the bathrooms at Disney are not what they used to be. When we went in the restroom at Cinderella’s Castle to wash our hands before our meal (think about how many things you have touched at the Magic Kingdom next time you stick your hand in that bucket of popcorn), my daughter E said to me, “Well, this isn’t such a magical experience.” She’s right. It’s a step up from digging your own latrine, using a port-a-potty at any music festival, or squatting over a hole in Calcutta, but barely so. By the end of the day, you should consider yourself lucky to find a square of paper left or a toilet not completely obliterated by upset stomachs and menstruation. That being said, you still might want to consider a disgusting bathroom as a better place to release your methane than next to my dinner.

If they have drug sniffing dogs and corpse sniffing dogs, could they not train a few beagles to stick their noses up some man's ass and identify the brand? I promise you if we released a color along with an odor, people would give up this notion of leaving silent but deadlys all over the place. All I'm saying is, stop farting in public. Think of the children.