Fart Fun

Yesterday I scared James for the first time in our four years together. I was sitting on the bathroom sink flossing. I sit there so I can be close to the mirror to make sure I get everything from between my teeth. And here comes James, two fingers ready to annihilate any subtly clogged pore I may have on my back. I usually don't mind being picked on but when I'm trying to concentrate on something and I'm constantly being interrupted by pinching pain, I tend to get nasty. Really nasty. So there he was, concentrating on a stubborn blackhead, when I saw my opportunity......
You know how farts echo off a smooth surface. James jumped back with this priceless look on his face like someone had fired a gun at close range and he was going through all of his mental military files to determine a proper response. Then he hastily retreated to the bedroom while I laughed myself onto the floor. The really mean thing about it was I was watching in the mirror to see his reaction! Isn't that sick? Later he commented that he was surprised he got away with both his shoes intact. I think I laughed until midnight.

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