Everyone Knows It's Windy

No one told me it was going to be like this. I mean, when you are pregnant, you expected it. Of course, you only expected it because you read “What to Expect When You Are Expecting” religiously. But, not in perimenopause. Hot flashes, yeah, moodiness, okay, memory loss, I think I remember hearing about that, but flatulence? No one told me I would be a burping, farting, mess. You expect it in old people. Who doesn’t remember their grandfather letting lose? Or maybe for you it was grandma, but 40 years old? That is around when it started for me.

These days I think people see me coming and they could break out into that old song “Everyone Knows Its Windy.” My friend Rick and I had to joke about my belly bubbles when at a “Dirty Dancing” concert (a british dance concert based on the movie “Dirty Dancing”, don’t ask) Anyway, we redubbed the song “She’s Like the Wind” to “She Passes Wind” and that really could be my theme song these days.

The new lyrics go something like this:

She gets that look in her face, and gives her buns a squeeze, we try to escape but end up on our knees, she passes wind…

You get the idea, and it isn’t pretty. It’s also hard to feel sexy when you are so bloated. Some nights I feel that true love would involve handing my husband a respirator before bed. Of course, he is a good sport about the whole thing. He hasn’t pointed out that “in a fog of toxic fumes” was not actually in our wedding vows. Somehow, he managed to find me the most appropriate card ever last birthday. It said “Your farts have hospitalized small children.” I am not sure he can top that card ever again.