He says that I am a frequent violator of the prevention of biological and chemical weapons treaties. Even when I try to get down wind if even a tiny bit gets wafted his way, he says that I'm making the US look bad by both creating biological weapons and testing them.
Mostly I like to fart when we're in public places, like the grocery store. I like to fart at the end of an aisle that we're leaving so nobody will know that it's us... but it'll linger for them. I'm more like a Secret Santa than a biological warfare specialist, but it's all semantics.
Yesterday we were at a drugstore getting some OTC goodness for my newest head cold. I could tell I had a fart brewing, and I really thought it would be a small one. If I had known that it was going to be one of those that toot along with you for several steps, I really would have warned The Hater, who was walking behind me. Well, they were silent and more of a blitzkrieg of farts than I had anticipated. And then The Hater jumped all over my case for not warning him and then gave me a lecture about friendly fire. He said next time I should warn him and say, "Charlie! Charlie! Move left!"
A little later we were leaving another store and I thought I'd fart before I got back into the car to protect the man that I love. Well, it apparently lingered longer than I thought it would, and I had just enough time to explain to him that I really was trying to be nice by farting outside before I got into the car. And then he smelled it.
He's really looking forward to our trip home next week. Maybe Santa will bring my poor husband a gas mask...