On Pseudo-Sleepwalking. And Farting.

I like most people the best when they're asleep. Because they can't bother you. And also because you get to see their real faces. They're not trying too hard to look good. They're not faking a smile. Nor will they ever give you the stink eye. It's their real resting face, I suppose.

* * *
I must have been 5 or 6 when it happened.

I sat on the edge of my bed thinking...Wait, why am I up? Suddenly I was looking down the dark hallway that connected my room to the living room. I blinked and suddenly, I felt a cold metal doorknob on my fingers as I opened a door.

I sat on my parents' bed in the dark and watched the outlines of my parents' bodies next to one another. I heard their deep breaths and struggled to reach out to my dad who was laying closest to me.

Then.

I farted. Really, reallyyyy loud.

I felt my parents' bed vibrate beneath me. And then, I guess my dad heard/felt/smelled it because this:


But instead of across my face, he slapped my knee. I woke up with a quickness.


"MA-LA-KA-PEE*!!! (I don't know what this means, so I can only assume that this is a curse word.) WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" My dad screamed at me. And of course, I had no idea why I was in their room. Or why it stank so badly. My response:


He sent me back to my room. As I left, I heard my mom ask, "What was it?"
My dad: Can't you smell it?! Your daughter farted. What have you been feeding her?

-___- My parents. SO MUCH LOVE.



* * *
To this day, it is still the single loudest and stinkiest fart I have ever dealt. EVER. After that day, I've tucked myself in by pushing my covers and blankets underneath my body. I thought that if I was trapped underneath something, I wouldn't be able to walk around and get hit again. It's worked for the past twenty-some years.