Remember a few weeks ago when my husband was tormenting me, for FUN, about my ass gas?  WELL I NEED MORE HELP.

PS: I got some great advice in comments:

…start accusing husband of all farts and disowning all of them… ?? (Anna)

“Are you suggesting that my delicate ladiness produced such a noxious smell? I am offended. I demand an apology. It was the dog.” (Even if you don’t have a dog. Continue to insist it was the dog. And then  argue about the fact that he is a moron for not noticing that you do, indeed, own a dog.) (Sam)

…Maybe he would prefer a more delicate warning, since he is so delicate. You could try Rainbow! Or, Unicorn! Baby duck! (Jill)

I used to kill everything within a twelve foot radius after consuming milk products. Seriously, they have a pill for that nowadays.  (bon)

Talk to your doctor. (Jan)

Is there anything about your husband that could offend? Pimples? Stinky balls? You might say, how would you feel if I mocked you for that? Rude! (also Jan)

Since I’m not exactly the Sun Tzu, a la THE ART OF WAR, I retaliated against my husband by using ALL of your comments, all at once, in a high shriek, every time he got so far as, “Do you sm—?”

I AM OFFENDED.  I DEMAND AN APOLOGY.  THAT SMELL IS YOUR STINKY BALLS.  AND THE DOG’S. OF COURSE WE HAVE A DOG, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? THE BALL STINK IN HERE IS CLOUDING MY THOUGHT PROCESS.  UNICORNS!

The other flaw in my plan was that my husband read all your comments before I could use them effectively.  I know because I found him at the computer, snicker-choking laughter and closing the browser quickly.  UGH.

In the interim, my regrouped plan is:  I have been eating beans, dairy and gluten LIKE A FIEND (thanks, commenters!) and sneaking up on him when I suspect a fart coming on. It’s best when he’s at the computer and I can totally stink bomb the area, sprint out, and hold the door closed behind me.  It’s way funnier to hear him  shouting ‘What’s that smell?” when I can also hear him clawing at the doorknob for escape.

For his part, he now asks, totally straight-faced, “What’s that smell?” even when I don’t fart.   He’ll interrupt me on the phone like he’s got a real question, and then spring.  Or when he leaves for work early, and I’m snuggled into bed still half-asleep, and he leans in to kiss me?  You guessed it.  “Hey Natalie…. (nuzzle, smootch.  and then) What’s that smell?”

This fucker!

PS:  He’s also taken to these casually straining, high force farts, like he’s fracking the couch.  I think he’s asserting dominance or something.  I’m  legit nervous he’s gonna blow out a sphincter, but more than that, I’m pissed he’s winning somehow.