Out of Mannerly Fashion

I had this long, reflective post about the end of the old year and the start of the new, but then CNN said "fart."

I shouldn't even be up. Being up this "early" is admitting that we're back to work on Monday with little more than a generic long weekend between now and then. Not enough sleep is making me extra-juvenile.

But I was having this annoying dream. Mike and I were at the beach, and I was taking photos of the surf. Then Mike pointed out Paris Hilton off to our right, along the shoreline, so I clicked a photo of her while getting the other snaps.

Well. She and her legal representative were not amused. They didn't do anything, but clearly they thought I was some vile paparazzi. I felt determined to explain to them the difference between invading someone's space for a photo and swinging the camera half-an-inch to the side for a second while snapping other shots.

Finally we got a dialogue going. Mike wandered off. Paris lost interest. The lawyer-type guy made some thinly veiled comments about how boring my interest in family history research is.

Then, in the middle of all of this, Susan fell down a garbage disposal. (It could've been Cordelia. I kept calling her Cordelia. But she looked like Susan, and I used to always accidentally call Susan that. If it was Cordelia, then I don't feel as bad because, you know, she's gone-and-stuff.) Luckily, there was a sort of iris-y gate keeping her away from the blades. I almost got her out, but then she fell down to the blades. I almost got her out again, but then she fell into a tiny crawlspace under the blades, unreachable by human hands.

So, I got so frustrated, I woke up.

Me sitting up woke Mike up, and he called dibs on using the restroom "quickly," which meant I was hopping foot-to-foot outside while he redefined said adverb. And now he's back asleep and I'm here, reading CNN.

(Mike was talking to one of his parents recently about the price of housing here and how these McMansions are now affordable, especially with buyer incentives. Except, he pointed out, we don't really need five bedrooms or a pool or more than one bathroom. Believe me, I sorted him out on that one..)

If this bathroom talk is TMI, then don't read CNN today. They used the word "fart" in a headline! GASP. I guess that publication is a liberal affront to the senses, just as my grandfather always warned.

The article is just DUH-fluff, but the comments are quite interesting. First, you get the people who decry all of this farting in front of spouses business. "Leave some mystery!" Then, you get the people who think it's bizarre to say "excuse me" if it happens in public. (Okay, I know - via an instructive Metafilter thread - that Miss Manners says that everyone should just ignore it, but we're talking about the kind of flatulence that cannot be ignored, in one sense or another. Or both.)

Anyway, assuming we're all on the same page about this topic is apparently right out the window.

But WAIT! It's not just poot-tooting. For some people, per the article's comments, when and where to blow your nose is just as controversial.

I never in my life imagined that there were marriages where people did not blow their noses in front of each other.

Today is our anniversary, and I think all we're planning to do is hang out around the sofa and think fondly of those new radiator hoses we got for each other. I'm just not good with celebrating this anniversary (and in fact, forgot about it until Mike mentioned it a few days ago) because it's more of a "sorted out the legal paperwork" anniversary than a "been together THIS long" anniversary.

But this CNN article has caused me to take a moment to cherish that I can blow my nose all I like in front of my husband. I can even HONK HONK HONK while he's in mid-sentence then ask him to repeat.

And as for anything else, well, apparently ours is a home of like-minded blessings. Maybe that CNN article wasn't so dumb after all; perhaps a lack of communication about which noises and habits are acceptable is the cause of so much divorce. And maybe I should be damn grateful to have met someone who is not only my love, but my Fartbrother.*

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MIKE.

(*There was a ceremony and everything. **)

(** Which I will probably never describe. ***)

(*** It's a funny story, though. ****)

(**** You see, it all started this one time at Disney World, when Mike was walking up some steps, and I was behind him. *****)

(***** Actually, it's probably bad form to reveal guild secrets. Excuse me!)

Comments

[Dad]

Happy Anniversary