Up in the air flying to Milwaukee, working on my cookbook. Taking short breaks to get to know the young college students sitting next to me. Kortney with a K and Martin not Marty. They are going to see the Packer’s playing the San Diego Chargers in Green Bay. Actually, most of the people on this plane are doing the same thing. It was fun getting to know them, and it’s been great working on my book. The flight attendant is great and a lot of fun. But then of course he’s fun – we’re flying Southwest.
So all is well for a couple of hours and then it started…Okay who is it? Everyone looks around but no one will say anything. I overheard the girl sitting next to me asking her boyfriend if it was him, and Jeff looked at me from across the isle wondering if I noticed anything. I figured by now I was friendly enough with the couple sitting with me so I asked, “Do you smell that?” They started laughing and she said, “Yeah I just asked my boyfriend if it was him.” We all laughed but no one would cop to, “Who farted?” It continued for an hour and we all had fun making faces, and playing our new game called “Who Farted?” We never did figure it out. What crossed my mind momentarily was “What if it was a terrorist, and he was doing it so he could build up the gas, light a match and blow us all to hell? And no one would be able to figure out how the guy got the explosives on board.” Uh oh. We were heading towards my husband’s family of five brothers, and the toilet humor was kicking in already.