 There’s a line from an old movie that goes…
“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
While that may be true, it’s not necessarily a good thing.
When two people are first dating, they tend to put their best feet forward and try to make themselves appear as desirable as possible. This means that they would never do anything as gauche as belching in front of the other person or wiping snot onto their own shirtsleeves.
But when love comes to town everything changes.
You see love actually does mean never having to say you’re
sorry, but it also means never having to say “Excuse Me, “ “God Bless
You” or “If You’d Like To Breathe For The Next Five Minutes You Might
Want To Stick Your Head Out Of The Car Window For I Have Just Ripped
The Worst Fart Since The Beginning Of The Industrial Revolution.”
When we’re single and not out to impress anyone, we are ourselves.
We are at our truest when we are in a house alone. We drink out of the
milk carton, pass gas with glee and eat with our hands.
We behave more like raccoons than people.
But then the time comes when we have to impress a potential mate.
We have to pretend to be better people than we are. We pretend that
we’re the sort of people who use silverware and bathe regularly.
But then we fall in love, cohabitate and relax a bit.
That’s when the veneer begins to slowly crumble and we begin to show our true selves to each other.
I thought it was cute years ago the first time I heard a
high-pitched fart squeak from betwixt her perky ass cheeks that were as
yet unravaged by the cruelty of age and gravity.
She used to grin and giggle a bit when she found bits of food in the pockets of my jeans with a 32-inch waist.
But those days are long gone.
We have become so relaxed after ten years of living together that
we don’t even realize it when we do something that might be
objectionable to the other.
We lie in the living room watching T.V. and she’ll ask me…
“Did you just fart?”
Instead of apologizing or trying to blame it on the dog I’ll actually consider the question.
“When?”
“Just now.”
(Thoughtful pause.)
“You know, I really can’t remember.”
Then it turns into an episode of Law & Order where I’m actually trying to solve the Case of the Awful Smell.
“It certainly smells like one of my farts. But that might just be how our couch smells now, you know?”
It’s moments like these when two people look at each other in that way that suggests that they’re thinking,
“How did I wind up here? I’ve promised to live with this person
forever. When did they become a giant, lazy unkempt bag of farts?”
It’s then that they realize that they’re actually quite lucky.
Being married to a lazy unkempt bag of farts makes it okay for you to be a lazy unkempt bag of farts, yourself.
In the end, love means never having to say…
“I’m sorry I’m a giant bag of farts.”
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Quirkee Voices 
