In these troubling, turbulent times, I’m buoyed by the oversimplification of ideas that still leave room for nuance, oh, and fart jokes. In case the title didn’t warn you, turn back now lest ye be gaslit by fart metaphors.
Having a small child teaches you that every sound this tiny creature makes is an adventure. But it’s also an introduction to the mundane. As a 20 year old, vomiting was a novelty. When a drunken friend vomited on themselves or, better, projected in an anachronistic situation, it was a incredibly entertaining. Having a child has changed that. She spits up so often and casually that it has robbed me of my juvenile love of vomit.
What all of her sounds and projectile bodily fluids have taught me is that life is like a baby fart. That’s right, choke on your box of chocolates metaphor, Gump, because life is more like a baby fart. Every fart is a surprise. Sometimes that fart gets messy. Sometimes, there’s a lot of noise made but nothing comes from it. Sometimes it stinks. Sometimes it’s hilarious. Sometimes it can be painful. Sometimes, you need to check if your loved ones are okay because of the sheer force of it. Sometimes it’s surprising. Then, it happens so often that it becomes boring until one comes a long that renews the vigor, that captures your imagination. (Has anyone ever said that a baby fart captured their imagination?)
There are a lot of wonders involved with your baby passing gas. I guess there’s a lot of surprises if an old person passes gas too, though. Hmmm. Okay, let’s amend it, “Life is like a baby or geriatric fart.” But the geriatric part reminds me of the inevitable march of time which reminds me of my mortality and that’s a bummer. Yeah, let’s take the thought of everyone’s grandma farting uncontrollably into a bag out of this otherwise pristine and perfect metaphor.
Life really is like a baby fart, as the baby ages, learns more, tries different things, the farts get stinkier. It’s more than just dietary changes, it’s like experience, bad and good, filters through our soul and the innocence and inexperience gets thrown out of our butts. And baby farts can be quiet but potent in the middle of an elevator or loud, perfectly timed during a moment of quiet. Just like how sometimes there’s a perfect harmony to life amidst the chaos of the universe.
Who knew that you can get to a life-affirming moment from infant flatulence? Pretty good way to start the week.
You are plumbing new depths, Pickleope.
You’re quite the philosofart.
You’re quite the philosofart!
This just reminds me of the Mandela Effect, and how Forrest Gump never actually said “Life is like a box of chocolates.” Go ahead, look it up. Apparently someone ripped a hole in the Matrix, like a timeline altering fart.
Okay, so he said, “life WAS like a box of” blah blah blah and mumbled the is/was part (https://youtu.be/CJh59vZ8ccc). Less compelling than the time traveler who changed Berenstein to Berenstain which lead to 9/11!
Yeah. You’re right. Having a baby has turned you into a different kind of pickle.
Now this post made me smile and for that I thank you
You’re more brilliant than Forrest Gump.
I tooted at the gym today – that’s life.
(I’m glad nobody else was around, though.)