A large heaving puddle of immaturity...

Today at work, my office mate and I were reduced to two heaving puddles of immaturity in one fell swoop. Now, I consider myself a well educated woman. I have a degree and a professional career. I'm in charge of a lot of people at my job and the upper management often looks to me for ideas and suggestions to improve our service provision. In short, I am a valued employee and a woman of some accomplishment which, at my age, is something to be proud of.

But...

I have an inner child who cannot control herself at times. Especially if someone farts.

Yes, there is nothing funnier than a fart. I don't care who you are or what you do, if someone lets one rip in a public place, it is impossible not to fall into fits of giggles. Oh, you may be able to hold it together for a moment. Maybe even long enough for the offending party to leave the area so as not to cause even more embarrassment. But you know, as soon the wind bag goes, you're going to lose it.

This is exactly what happened at work today. My office mate and I were sitting at our desks working, minding our own business, getting things done when just outside our open door a woman sitting at a table let one fly. Wait...she did more than let one fly. This was, by far, the longest, loudest, most melodious gas passing I had ever heard in my life. At first, it didn't even sound real! I thought, for an instant, that my office mate was pranking me and put one of those fart machines under my desk but after a few seconds I realized that this was, indeed, a real live LONG fart. It started low and rose in tone and volume and lasted for what seemed at least 30 seconds and ended by a sudden rise as if it was asking a question.

Now, where I was sitting, I was right within eye sight of this woman but, thankfully, I was working at my computer and  had just moved my rather large monitor to the center of my desk which all but obscured a direct eye line. I bit my lip (to keep me from bursting into a fit of giggles) and willed myself to concentrate very hard at what I was reading on my screen. It was working for a while too except that just to my left, in my peripheral line of sight, I could see my office mate bent over at her desk pretending to look for something underneath it as her face turned redder and redder and laugh tears started to stream down her face. She was laughing that held in, silent drowning kind of laugh that you do when you're trying really hard not to laugh. I had to look away and pretend to read something hanging on my wall.

A minute passed with us in that strange in-between place where we were on the precipice of complete hysteria if we even looked at each other. Finally, my office mate, pulling as much of herself together as she could, stood up and made some weak excuse to leave the office. This gave me a brief reprieve because without her there I was able to hold it together.

In the meantime, Miss Rooty Toot Toot at the table, got up and left without a word. My office mate returned and we were both reduced into weeping, laughing, immature 10 year olds. It was one of those laughs that is so deep that it has no real sound but rather is the sound of air leaving a tire in short spastic spurts. This is always accompanied by involuntary tears and, eventually, a side ache. After a time, the laughter starts to subside and things start to get back to normal. Sort of.

For the rest of the day, the sound and memory of it all keeps seeping back into my thoughts and I break out into short bursts of giggling off and on all day. The worst is when we're trying to get some work done but we can hear each other struggling to maintain some dignity which just makes it worse.

During one of my giggle bursts, my office mate tries to be helpful by reading me tragic headlines from the internet. In my fit of laughter, she suddenly blurts out, "Judy Blume has cancer!"

Now I love Judy Blume and I'm really sad to hear that she is ill but, for some reason, the suddenness of my office mates announcement just makes me laugh harder and it's then, I know for sure, I am going to hell! I mean, I'm laughing at finding out that Judy Blume has cancer! I mean, I know I'm not really laughing at that - I'm just laughing - but still....straight to hell.

Even now, hours later, at home and writing this blog entry...I start to laugh all over again. And the thing is I can't really explain why it's so damn funny to me but, I don't care who you are, farts are funny. Every single time.