A story I mention in my memoir, Immaculate Misconceptions: Tales of Catholic School: in the sixth grade I had a nun named Sister Ada. She was quite old, and at times, when perched on her stool behind the lectern, she would stop talking, pause, and then belch audibly. After another pause, she’d say, “I’m sorry, boys and girls, but you don’t know how good it is to get that out.”
So now I’m in my late 60s, I think approaching Sister Ada’s age (though I have no idea how old she was at the time), and occasionally I have to, as they say, “pass gas.” And it’s most fulfilling, one might even say, liberating, to at times be away from everyone else, out of earshot and negative comments, and to just…let…loose. At times like that, I think of Sister Ada’s phrase, and have to agree that it is good to get that out.
I’m aware that I shouldn’t do it in public, but if one ever slips out and I get funny looks, I’m just going to smile at them a little sheepishly and say, “You know, I’ve been meaning to change that ringtone!”
MUSOFYR 