Sunday, June 22, 2008

Silence is Golden

How far does sound travel? Can we recognize a familiar sound when it is not our own? These are just a few questions that have been swirling inside my head. That age old question -'When a tree falls in the woods does anyone hear it?'
Do the sounds inside a tent hit higher on the Richter scale than an actual earthquake? Can those nice people 10 feet from our tent flap hear what's going inside our canvas abode?
I know this may sound disgusting, crude and totally inappropriate but it happens. The passing of gas in a tent at a campground in close proximity to strangers. It wasn't me it was hubby. He's always been full of hot air (LOL) but now it seems to be getting louder and more frequent. And he doesn't even seem to care. He lets it rip at the grocery store, the gas station and at small family gatherings.
I walk away in disgust and pretend I don't know him. Or I will verbally reprimand him right in front of the cashier. We roll our eyes and have that sisterly YAYA understanding.
His latest antics have totally embarrassed me - so bad I had that phobia where you can't leave your home, only I couldn't leave the tent. I couldn't bear to make eye contact with our -oh-so-close tent neighbors. What must they be thinking? OMG!!! They may think it's me. So, now I am stuck hiding from the world in this 4ft tent for the entire weekend.
Then, again maybe it sounded like a bird or a fish splashing. I'm still so embarrassed - I cannot face these unknown strangers who I will never see again. I'm glad I packed my craft supplies for this weekend excursion.
I pull out my trusty glue gun and my silver glitter. I search his duffel bag for a dark colored t-shirt. Ha, I find his favorite. With a steady hand I scroll on the back of his t-shirt - HE FARTS ALOT, and then apply my silver glitter to the hot glue words. I swing it back and forth till it's dry.
"Honey, here's your favorite shirt. Slip it on and we'll walk around the campsite."
Off we go into the wild blue yonder, or a quick walk to the Club House. We stroll around talking to other campers and he doesn't even notice the giggling behind his back. My phobia has seemed to disappear.

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