Better Buy Beano

I feel as though a diet journey
is a personal experience that is always
best when shared with others.

Just knowing that other people
are out there
going through the same trials
and experiencing similar
joys and disappointments,
is always uplifting
and encouraging.

That's why I'm sure you won't mind
a personal story about a private experience
that- for me-
has only added to the spiciness and
the memory of this long, long journey.
Forgive me
if it offends any of you.

I cooked my favorite chili Sunday afternoon.
Being low calorie and high fiber-
it was an excellent choice
for a snowy afternoon lunch.
It hit the spot.

In fact, it was so good
that I had seconds.
And even then, I stayed well
within my daily limits.

Well, you know from my past blogs that
I had a definite problem
with my favorite high-fiber
"fart bars."

Honey- this chili made those fart bars
sound like an ant coughing.

I was tooting bazooka guns all day!
And try as I might-
they could not be suppressed
or hidden
or even Glade-disguised.

It was a good thing
I wasn't sitting in church
or cooped up in the car stuck in traffic.
Because the hi-decibel grunts
weren't the worst part of it.

The smell made little green clouds
appear all over the house
and unfortunately
my husband drifted into one
as he entered the bathroom.

I suppose after a few hours,
I was used to it.
It didn't seem to be a problem,
but he began opening windows and doors
and turning on ceiling fans.

"It's snowing in on the carpet," I said,
fighting another small toot.

"Get a hold of yourself, Woman!" he warned,
backing up three or four feet
and waving the air.

Later in the day, we went to the garage to
assemble a smoker that we had just bought
and by that time, he had forgotten
the putrid poison pellets of perfume
that I had deposited earlier.

Burner assembly.
Check.
Chrome handle.
Check.
Wire racks.
Check.
Thermostat.
Check.

All the while. I was holding the
flashlight so that he could peer
into the smoker to tighten the nuts.

I felt another wave of silent stench
coming on and
walked off to the other side of
the room to avoid another
scolding.

Then he shouted impatiently
and insisted that I
immediately resume my
loyal flashlight-holding stance-
so what could I do?

Let's just say
that he wasn't a happy camper.

Yet, later that night,
his chili fiber suddenly kicked in
and we went to bed and snuggled
amicably,
sounding like muffled firecrackers
in stereo sound.

But, you know-
I laughed more than I had in weeks.
It just goes to show the price we must pay
for healthier living.

And I don't mean to
toot my own horn, (no pun intended)
but I am willing to experience all
the uncomfortable side effects.

Face it-
though it might make some of you barf-
Sweet success never smelled so good!