Exception to the Rule

I've never been one for potty humor. That famous clip from There's Something About Mary? Gross. Fart/poop/bodily function jokes? Not a fan. I mean, sure. Preston and I talk frequently and openly about the dogs pooping because if we don't talk about it, then we don't know when they've gone, and if we don't know when they've gone, then we are at risk for one of them (read: NESS) taking a dump in the living room, and while picking up poop outside is gross enough, picking it up off of the rug where you do Pilates is a thousand times worse. I'm just saying. Also, to anyone who has ever visited our apartment: I promise, I scrubbed that rug VERY carefully and used enough disinfectant to clean O.J. Simpson's conscience, so have no fear.

But potty humor in general? VETO. Last night, however, I discovered an exception to this rule. So Preston and I were talking in the den: I was about to go to bed, and he was sitting on the sofa with Ness asleep on the floor in front of him. Suddenly, she let out a fart so loud (unusual in and of itself, since she is usually of the silent but deadly school) that not only we heard it but also SHE heard it. In her SLEEP. BUT WAIT. It gets better (I know, right? How could such a thrilling story possibly improve?!).

Awoken by her own alarmingly loud fart, Ness lifted her head up, looking startled and confused. After pausing to get her bearings, she started to sniff the air around her head intently, evidently confused by this foul smell (seriously. her farts could kill flowers.). Realizing quickly that the source of the stench wasn't near her head, she gradually sniffed her way down her body until she reached her butt. She sniffed it for a few seconds and then, evidently satisfied that she had finally solved the mystery of whence her fart came, lay her head back down contentedly on the floor and fell back asleep. And Preston and I laughed REALLY HARD.

So well done, Ness. In one night not only did you give me an exception to my NO FART JOKES EVER rule (not really a rule so much as a preference), but also you learned that it is YOUR FAULT our apartment has been smelling of ASS lately. So to sum it up: Two birds. One stone. A good night.