So, as I've been dealing with a redonkulously protracted healing time, I've adopted a constant and comfortable late night routine: I take a narcotic and watch Roseanne reruns.Last night, my all time favorite episode came on. If you were watching TV in the 80s, you'll know what episode I'm talking about. It's the one where:
Becky cut the cheese.
That's up there with "As god is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly" and "Chuckles the Clown" for things that make me giggle without any context or setup.
So, anyhoo, I'm all stoned and chuckly last night on the couch watching it when I had a sudden grade school flashback! Picture if you will, a 7th grade Megbon, awkward, glasses, kind of nerdy. I was also a cheerleader (I know that seems weird, but it was a really small school and pretty much every girl was conscripted into the cheerleading squad). We cheerleaders were all lined up and doing that cheer that goes, "My name's Juanita. I am a Taurus. And I am h-o-t-t- hot." Or something like that. So, the girl in front of me did her little bit but before I could announce my name and astrological sign, I...
cut the cheese.
I farted in the middle of a line of cheerleaders. And immediately got the nickname Tootie.
Oh, the shame and embarrassment! For YEARS! See, I have significant bathroom issues. I carried that feeling of shame and embarrassment regarding Tootie deep into my 20s. As time passed, this memory faded from my mind. But the bathroom issues stayed with me. For example, I was married for five years (literally: five years) before I would use the toilet when Don was home. Which is CRAZY!
Ah, but time passes and we care less about things. I can't believe I was that wiggy about bodily functions. What a waste of time. That episode of Roseanne is hilarious and I am proud to have been a seventh grade Tootie.
Or was it Tootsie? Something like that. Wev.
Here's the promised vid:
