Toot. Away.

I like to get poop and fart talk out of the way early. If you’ve met me, we’ve probably exchanged some bathroom stories. It’s my way of walking arm in arm into vulnerability with my comrades. Come on, guys! Let’s get the talk out of the way, so if someone accidentally squeaks, it won’t come as a surprise.

My grandma was a fart shamer. There, I said it. I have fart trauma. She “didn’t fart” and made me feel so embarrassed that I did. I wanted to acheive her flatulentless (?) status and I couldn’t. I made my stomach hurt a few times trying. One night, when my mom was away, my grandma slept in my room so I wouldn’t get scared. She farted all night. What a relief!

I realized that there wasn’t anything wrong with me and there isn’t anything wrong with you either, boo. Toot away!

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