A bloated anniversary

As February is approaching, the entire hoopla around Valentine ’s Day has started in our neighborhood. Being one of the more upmarket areas with lots of cafes around, there are plenty of opportunities for establishments to create representations of love and stack them all over. Most of them are gawky to say the least. So we have a couple staring into the far horizon outside an apparel store, a heart shaped cake in the café opposite it, red curtains at the shoe store across it and love songs playing in the supermarket at the end of the road. Given that we are a good fifteen days away from the actual day, I have to admire the industriousness of all these people because I am sure that these expressions have little to do with love and more to do with financial plannings.

For love does not need to come in a pre-decided package that has been tailored to follow a romantic template advised by card shops or movies. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, and is unique for each of us. For some it is commitment to stand by each other, for others it is shared interests, for some it is family responsibilities and for others it is dreams and hopes.

But for most happy couples, there is one element that runs common… and it is shared laughs.

We are not very romantic people. Our idea of romance is probably to crash in front of the TV with pizza. And even on the most romantic days, supposedly, we end up doing the same. So on our last anniversary, we were very excited. Why? Because we had downloaded some fun movies, had ordered loaded pizzas and were about to have a lazy evening at home!

But, alas that was not to be.

The doorbell rand, and look who was there! It was one of our far-away friends! He happened to be passing by our house and decided to stop by! Wow! So exciting! Well, it was fine because we love having people over but we hopes that he would not expect any anniversary celebrations! We looked at each other and then at him to assess the situation. Soon we realized he had no idea.

As the evening progressed, we were happy and animated. The pizzas were delicious, the beers (which thankfully he had brought) were nicely comforting and the movies were hilarious! Suddenly he got up. There was a look of alarm on his face. He asked me where the toilet was and I pointed. He was back in a few minutes looking relieved.  But in another twenty minutes he got up again. This continued was almost an hour. He would go towards the toilet and be back looking relieved. Finally my husband asked him if he was okay. He nodded with a smile. But then he went into the toilet again after ten minutes.

This time we decided to investigate. So when he got up this time, we both followed him at a distance. For a while there seemed to be nothing wrong so we almost decided to go back to watching the movie. But then suddenly we heard something that almost made us fall down laughing. The poor man probably had a crazy attack of gas and he was farting like a long musical piece.

My husband and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

He finished after a good four minutes and we ran back to the sofa so that he does not suspect we knew. When he came back we tried to look as nonchalant as possible, but inwardly we were laughing sidesplittingly. When he left that night, the dam broke. I think we laughed for an hour straight! Then we hugged each other and slept, knowing that there couldn’t have been a better anniversary filled with love and laughter!

This post is a part of #LoveAndLaughter activity at BlogAdda in association with Caratlane.
Images are from pixabay


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