While I was pregnant, I practically lived on Chipotle burritos. One day, in my first trimester, I had a barbacoa burrito for a late lunch; marinated, delicious beef and lots of it. I ate the entire thing quite quickly and got a tummy ache. As many of you know, your body can do some strange things during pregnancy, and even though your baby is in your uterus, your tummy and digestion go all nutso. I spent the rest of the afternoon stepping away from people.
Tommy, being supportive and a nervous expectant dad, was picking me up from work everyday, so I would not have to ride the bus home.
It was a cool fall day, Tommy had been working outside and was anxious to warm up. He objected to the open passenger side window. But my colon was busy objecting to the Barbacoa burrito.
"Can you close that window? I'm freezing over here."
"I can, but I don't think you want me to, because I had a barbacoa burrito for lunch," as I was saying this, Tommy was rolling up my window and I let go of perhaps the stinkiest fart in the history of Reefside.
"Oh, dear GOD!" Tommy cried as the smell wafted to the drivers side. " You had a what? A FARTAcoa burrito?"
My body convulsed with laughter, releasing even more horrific gas as Tommy groped for the switch to roll the window back down.
And down it stayed.
Be kind be caring be kinky