I feel like since it's Valentine's Day, I might as well tell you about the fart machine.
So, those of you who've been around a while know that Nick and I got engaged within 10 weeks of first laying eyes on each other. It could have gone very badly, I know.
Anyway, he was sure from like, minute one, and we started talking marriage pretty quickly. And then we looked at rings. And got engaged. It was all very fast.
We had a lot to learn about each other post-engagement. But I knew some very fundamental things about him from early on.
For example, he has this awesome fart machine. It's remote controlled and it makes realistic, juicy, embarrassing fart sounds.
Also, I recognized that he had many stellar personal qualities. And my lack of filter didn't make him twitch.
So. he wanted to wait until he had the ring to ask my parents for my hand. (Which, now that I've written it, gives me the terrible image of him walking around with a severed hand.)
So he and I looked at rings. Then I went with Betty and looked. Then Nick was scheduled to go with Betty to her jeweler. Nick started joking that we could get the neighbors in on the rotation. On Tuesday, he could go with Martha, and Wednesday I could look at rings with her husband. On Thursday we could regroup.
Anyway. Back to Nick and Betty.
I told him he should bring the fart machine with him. So he did.
He'd met my parents maybe three times at this point.
So he went to my parents' house and picked up Betty. And as he drove, he'd occasionally press the fart button.
And then he'd say, "Oh, excuse me!"
Betty, being very sweet and polite, just said, "Oh! No problem."
Until the third one. At which point she knew something was up. He fessed up to the fart machine. She asked if she could borrow it.
So they went up to the jeweler, and then Betty went and bought Nick a sandwich, and he bought the ring.
Afterward, Nick said they all sat in my parents' kitchen, him eating a roast beef sandwich, nobody mentioning rings or possible engagement, just pretending it was a totally normal day.
Awk. Ward. Why he didn't bust out the fart machine for that, I do not know.
And then he left. A couple hours later, he got a call from my mom.
"Oh, hello! Nick! Your machine keeps farting! We can't stop it."
Turned out to be on the same frequency as a neighbor's garage door opener.