Not A Fan

My god, Caro hasn't half been farty lately.

Whoops. Sorry. I probably shouldn't just blurt it out like that. However, my dear fellows and dear Princess, it is a documented phenomenon common to many post-bypass patients, that they can strip varnish from furniture with their industrial-strength flatulence.

Caro warned me about this. "Apparently it can last up to three years," she said.

THREE YEARS? My nose may have curled up and dropped OFF by then!

I'm pretty sure she never mentioned this before she got the surgery. Had she brought it up, I might have told her we needed to buy her a place of her own first. Or at the very least, invest in a cork.

I should tell you that it does not happen that often. Caro is pretty careful about what she eats. But occasionally she will branch out and try something different. We all remember, and were scarred by, the infamous "cottage cheese" incident.

My main problem is that I don't know what's going on until it is too late. Caro is very fond of the surprise ambush. Typically, it goes like this:

ME: What's so funny?
CARO: Hee hee hee hee hee.
ME: No really, what is it?
CARO: Ha ha ha ha ha.
ME: (Sniff sniff) Oh for f***'s sake.

I suppose I have no right to complain. Caro has been putting up with me and my love of curry for 20 years. 

All the same. This is a picture of a fan. I have been using it. And it is not due to the warm weather. If you catch my drift.

S.