An incident happened this weekend I’m not proud of. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed to share it with you. But hey, it’s just us, right?
So, picture this: it’s late Sunday morning. Charlie’s snorin’ in his Barcalounger. Scamp’s with me in the kitchen, dozin’ on his doggie bed. I’m putterin’ around, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I feel one comin’ on. You know what I mean. Nobody ‘cept the dog is near, so I just let ‘er rip: long, loud and unapologetic. A real twenty-one gun salute.
“What’s that?” Charlie yelps, nearly fallin’ out of his chair.
“Don’t know,” I yell. “Must be a car backfiring.” Could have been my imagination, but Scamp seemed to give me a knowin’ look.
See, I don’t mind farting in front of my husband. Part of being married is bein’ privy to such bodily functions. It just comes with the territory. But I’d prefer to keep my shared farts, well, lady-like. You know, I little poot here, a toot there. I try to reserve the more manly, peel the paint off the walls variety for my alone time. Or the silent, but deadlys: they’re the worst.
Charlie wanders into the kitchen and stops short. “Geez, Louise! Did somethin’ die in here?”
“Scamp, did you fart?” I ask. Scamp looks guilty even when he’s done nothing, so he’s an easy target. I figure I’ll give him an extra treat later.
Charlie leans over the dog, “That wasn’t you, was it, little buddy?”
“Yeah, must have been that rawhide bone I give him last night.”
“You have trouble digestin’ your bone, boy?”
Scamp wags his tail, lookin’ back and forth between us. “Bone? Did someone say bone?”
“I could use a little somethin,’ myself,” says Charlie, pointin’ at the cupboard, then rootin’ around for a snack.
“What you lookin’ for?” I ask.
“Mixed nuts. Are we all out?”
“Let me look.”
And that’s when I walk into it, an invisible toxic cloud so pungent it practically decks me. The very definition of an S.B.D.
“Charlie!” I gag. “How could you?”
“Weren’t me, Ida. It must’ve been Scamp.”
“Oh, don’t try and slough it off on the dog! Here’s your mixed nuts.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says smilin’ and back he goes into the den.
“Honest to God!” I look over at Scamp. His tail’s still waggin’. “I suppose you want a treat ‘cause you’re such a good boy. Yes, you are. You’re a good boy.”
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Taste of my Own Medicine
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March 31 & April 1: Ida’s Havin’ a Yard Sale, The Footlights Theatre, http://www.thefootlightsinfalmouth.com/, 7:30pm, Falmouth, ME
June 9: Book Reading: The Sweet Life, Boothbay Harbor Memorial Library Literary Luncheon, https://bbhlibrary.org/ 11:30am, Bothbay Harbor, ME
For a good time, call Ida! I love entertaining groups, small and large! The following are wicked fun for after lunch, after dinner, rewards banquets, keynote speeches and what not.
The Moose in Me, The Moose in You!
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And if your book group wants to read Finding Your Inner Moose, I’d love to be part of the discussion. Especially if there’s food involved!