It is Totally Awkward Tuesday, accept here in Sydney, it's Wednesday, but I love TAT, thanks to Tova Darling.
So here's my Totally Awkward;
3 years ago, when I was last 'falling in love' with a boy, we spent Christmas Night up on a beautiful look out. We hadn't kissed yet, and I had a feeling tonight would be The Night. Que the stars, blanket and canoodling. It was all there.
After snuggling and whispering sweet nothings for a few hours, we decided to get off the blanket, and wrap it around ourselves, (obviously we were cold, it wasn't at all a way to get even closer). As we're getting off the blanket, out pops a discrete, yet obvious, fart.
I died. I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Every bone in my body turned to glue and my face was as red as Violet's was blue in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Being the gentleman he was, he didn't say anything and pretended he didn't notice, and we did end up having very romantic, non-farting kisses all night.
But even now, the memory sends my stomach into turmoil and I hope for the reminder to be wiped out of both our minds.