Rose Petals

Sparky and I are in the middle of Fart Wars. After gorging on the best Italian food in Germany during our brief stay in Berlin, we found ourselves in a state of the binded stool. As any one of my family members can attest, I keep a tea on hand for these and similar movements, I mean moments. The tea is called Smooth Move and boy is it smoooth. My siblings refuse to drink any beverage made by me in my house as they have been served this tasty tea for my amusement. Neither Jeff nor Mim found it as amusing as I did.

So Sparky and I drank it yesterday afternoon. All last night and today, Sparky and I have been lighting up the house with our natural energy source. However, as I explained to my brother long ago, I do not fart. I lose rose petals, sweet smelling clouds of femininity. Sparky has a faster metabolism; he tends to start off this fart off. I close up the rear the next day laying out more rose petals than the 14 flower girls at Princess Di’s wedding.

I had an aunt who never let her husband see her without make-up on. She’d get up before him in the morning and make sure every liner was in place, mascara removed and re-applied. She would be horrified by this mutual gas attack.

I suggest visitors wait until Tuesday to drop by.