Her favorite thing in the world is to crawl up into your arms, close her eyes, and let out the most noxious gas cloud she can physically produce. Once she gets comfortable she really lets loose and the farts become the world's most disgusting metronome. We joke about using her for biological weaponry or renting her to painting companies so she can help them strip the walls.
Last night was the worst though. For the past 3 days my back has been injured and I've been pretty immobile. I can hold myself up against the walls to get to and from the bathroom but otherwise I have been either in bed or in our recliner with heat pads on my back. This happens once a year or so and it is always pretty uncomfortable but last night it was combined with the Farts of Doom. The dog farts were bad enough. Every 45 seconds or so silent walls of smell would waft over from where she was cuddled into the pillow. But to top it off my husband had a large order of onion rings and was joining the smelly chorus. Because of the back problem I couldn't even roll over to try and escape the smell. My thought process pretty much went like this:
"God, my back hurts."
fffffffffftttt
"Ew, what is that...oh, yeah, the dog. Gross."
brraap
"Wait, what? Now him too? Oh no..."
plbbbt
"Jeebus, how am I supposed to sleep through this? I must have done something horrifyingly bad in a past life. Maybe I was a mobster or child abuser or something."
honk
"I would pay one billion dollars for the ability to walk into the living room and sleep on the couch right now!"
Then after trying to roll over and realizing I couldn't the thought cycle would start all over again. I don't care whether or not I am mobile, tomorrow I am going to work and sitting by an open window all day.
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