Dating and Flatulence

It seems like every sitcom featuring couples in the story line has an episode or two about couples "dating" new couples as a way of introducing new friends into their lives. It's funny because I feel like we actually do this in real life, but don't tend to think about it as "dating", but really, it is. 

Patrick and I hadn't dated anyone new in quite a while, until last week, when we went out for sushi with an adorable couple we met back in December. 

It's always a good sign on a first date when conversation is never in short supply. 

First Date Test #1: Things to talk about, check. 

Then our food came out and the rolls were just flat out too big to eat with chopsticks and I got brave and started eating with my hands (especially, but not limited to, the onion ring shaped calamari).

First Date Test #2: Experiment casually with tolerance of bad habits, check.  

And then at the halfway point of our meal, my stomach was still growling. I may have mentioned this little fact out loud as I started to indulge in 2nd, 3rd, and 4th helpings (what can I say; I worked out really hard that day in Ballet Booty Class), completely overtaking the table of food as everyone else gradually started to slowly withdraw their hands from any rolls left on the table (probably scared I would gnaw their fingers off). As I realized what was happening I decided I MUST address the situation, "Please, everyone, don't feel like you have to stop eating on my account. I can always order more. After all, this is our first date and I don't want y'all to remember me as the gluten who ate my own helpings and everyone else's as well!"

And even though they promised they'd had enough, encouraging me to eat my heart out, I had a suspicious feeling it was all a sacrifice on behalf of the lady eating for two.

First Date Test #3: Feel out the waters for boundaries of generosity, check. 

When I finally had my fill, our dessert of fresh, strangely (but conveniently) peeled oranges was served. It seemed like a perfect time for a group photo. 

First Date Test #4: Assess willingness to postpone dessert while I try to balance my camera on various objects to get the perfect framed self-timed picture and openness to be blogged about, check.

At the stroke of bedtime, we bid adieu to our perfectly long (and very fun) dinner date duo to head home, which is when it really sunk in that we had been on a first date. To understand why, you'd have to know my husband, the gassiest (benign, most of the time) person I've ever met. I once asked him how he didn't spontaneously combust like Kenny on South Park in the first stages of our relationship when he never let even a silent flatulence slip in my presence. His response, "I just held them in while I was with you and farted all the way home."

How could this be? How could one just save all their farts for a time of complete convenience and not be in agony for the rest of the day? It's understandable that I never completely believed him until this moment when he proved to me just how dedicated a fart saver he could be............because he actually farted all the way home (just like he did on our first several dates). Impressed, shocked and entertained by both his tact and skill, I had the window rolled down until we pulled into the driveway (chuckling the entire ride, because let's face it.......it was laughably priceless entertainment). 

My husband is a talented man, who cares very deeply about first impressions. For that, I applaud him (oh how I love that crazy guy of mine).
First Date Tribulation: Self control over embarrassing bodily functions, check.