Lessons from the great gasbandit

I have physical therapy frequently. Like 3 times a week, for the last 7 years. I have become not just friends, but family with my physical therapist and his wife. They are great. My brother even worked as a tech for them for 5 years. They know most of my family and we never hesitate to razz each other. This moment will live down in history, as the moment I was the most proud of myself for not making eye contact with them.
I was sitting between 2 beds waiting to be worked on. About 3 min after I sit down, the elderly woman 2 feet to my right, who is laying down on a bed…lifts her left leg…points her rear toward my head…and rips the duck quackinest loud POP POP POP flatulence. She was 3 feet from my head tops…Those who know me well, know that this moment put me in the worst of predicaments. I am deciding between biting my tongue clean off at it’s base and breathing through my nose and hold a straight face, or lose it 100% and laugh till tears run down my face! Miraculously, I held it together. I was careful not to make eye contact with anyone or it would be over. I sat there debating whether to breathe through my nose and run the risk of gagging or breathe through my mouth and let the microscopic pooticulates migrate into my mouth. Not 2 minutes later, guess what? Yup! She pulls her left leg up…tootlympian style…and aims another set of Pop POP POP fartfire right at my head!!!! I am not even kidding you! I even looked around to see if I was being punked by my physical therapist, who also happens to be a close family friend. NOPE! He isn’t even in the room. At this point I am shaking with silent laughter, trying not to take any deep breaths. This time I did scoot my chair forward a foot or so because I think this woman may have actually been aiming at me. She ends up finishing her time there…not a smirk, or nothin! I’ve decided that, I’m going to go about my life conducting myself in a refined and classy manner. HOWEVER…some day, when I am very old…if I even live this long…I may take up the torch and become the next great serial Gasbandit!
I realize that this is not “proper”. I have found in my life that something “improper” often ends up being the funniest moments in my life. Like for instance…the day I leisurely walked through Target, looking at housewares, then groceries and kid clothes, and then for my final stop at the women’s pajama section. I was admiring a pair of pajama pants and felt something annoyingly tickling my leg. I kid you not…it was at least 4 feet of toilet paper streaming out of my pants from my bathroom run before I got a cart.  This was like a banner. I could have advertised for Goodyear with the size of this toilet paper streamer. I left that cart in the pajama section and left with nothing. I still wonder how many workers were cracking up laughing in the surveillance area.
When I was 14, my cousins were spinning me in an office chair in the entryway of our church. I know…gasp! Anyway, this went awry in the worst way, when the chair flipped and I went head over heals with my underpants on full display as my legs went over my head.  I was humiliated.
My sense of humor can be light hearted or dark and deep. I have been able to find humor in the most unfortunate circumstances. I have even been known to snicker at a funeral. What I realize though, is that this has saved my life in some respects. I have done some of the very stupidest things and in hindsight, have been able to laugh about it. I believe God gave me humor so I could live with myself. I have always been a mix of enthusiasm, awkwardness, and bad coordination.  I think that we all struggle with embarrassment and regret to some capacity, with our decisions. We are all in this life together though, and not a one of us has it all figured out. Sometimes we are gonna make a bad judgement call, have toilet paper streaming out the back of our pants, or flip head over heals revealing our literal and or spiritual underpants. It’s okay. As the lady at physical therapy showed me…don’t take yourself too seriously. Oh…and everybody farts. Even elderly women who have grown to be so proud of it, that she has perfected a perfect trumpet.

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