Lest anyone think that Holly has somehow browbeaten me into not farting around her, I just want to go on record and say that the whole non-farting thing just happened (or didn't happen) organically.
I'm the type of guy who would pretty much never fart
in front of ANYONE (sure, that rule may have been broken once or twice, but come on). In fact, farting would probably never have even come up in conversation between Holly and me if we hadn't gotten a dog. But the dog is a total stinker, and that sort of broke the ice.
But the fact we’ve never forged through the farting frontier (at least the human one) is probably just an extension of the way Holly and I behaved when we were dating, which had everything to do with us being young, vain, and crazy self-conscious. I guess I’ve always pictured a husband the way I did as a kid: old, disgusting, and just sort of a “Dad” archetype. I've never seen myself that way, and I definitely don't want to be seen that way. So I act accordingly.
I realize I’m a dying breed. One of my friends just doesn’t give a f*@# about letting one loose in front of his girlfriend. She actually told me that he comes into the bathroom and drops a deuce while she’s taking a shower! That completely blew me away when I heard it. It's like wait five minutes, dirt bag! To me, that complete lack of modesty equals "I don't care what you think,” which is no attitude to have in a relationship.
So here’s the verdict: I'd like to preserve the integrity of Holly's image of me for a little while longer...as long as possible, actually. Tell me I'm not the only guy out there who feels this way.
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