Her celebratory dance

Last Friday (25 February), we went to a deserted area in the western part of the city after work to collect vouchers from her friend. It’s a place we would have never thought of exploring if she hadn’t need to meet her friend, I reminded her in the cab. But I’m glad we did.

There was a night market near the bus interchange when we arrived and her dream to eat sinful oily yummy snacks with me came true. There were fried Taiwanese sausages, fried prawn fritter, fried tapioca pancakes, corn in cups, colourful cupcakes and Ramly burgers. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ramly burgers. For the uninformed, it comes with a thin chicken patty, laced generously with mayonaise and wrapped in a large egg omelette in between two burger buns.

We ordered two of those sinful burgers for late night snacks. We also ate a prawn fritter and a sausage at the market. Thinking back, I don’t think we gorged ourselves silly enough.

We then made our way to the cinema near my place to purchase movie tickets. Now the mall in which the cinema was at is decent enough if you want to have dinner, watch a movie, shop for groceries, buy terrifying looking guinea pigs which are the size of alley cats or go to the gym. It has nothing else beyond that. Until we found the games arcade. It was the place where we parted with $10 in less than an hour. And had our hearts in our mouths several times in the same time period.

It was the game where you would manipulate a giant claw to grab a soft toy strategically positioned to drop the minute you think you succeeded in securing it long enough to reach the drop point.

We’d grab our hands in excitement, hold our breaths in case exhaling would cause the toy bear to drop. We had our eyes wide open, refusing to blink to will the claw to hang onto the toy tightly. We also had our hopes dashed many times. Until we decided to stop donating our money to the arcade. But we will be back.

On our way home, I suggested getting some macaroni and cheese for supper later and we did. This was a big mistake as you will see later.

During our walk back, we started playing “Guess that 90s song” while holding hands. It’s easy. You sing one line from a song released anytime between 1990 and 1999 and see if your partner knows the song title within five minutes. I might have tried humming my way through some songs. She did got stuck at certain songs. But whenever we came up with a classic we could instantly recognise, we would sing it out loud with gusto. The 90s were our era, dude. Those were nostalgic times. Now back to the present.

We then spent an hour in bed laughing at everything, playing and talking about random stuff (ok, some kissing were involved too) without even realising we had spent an hour entertaining ourselves with each other’s company.

And just like the week before, we soon settled in to watch American Idol (our current favourite). But there was a documentary that piqued our interest – The secret cellar of that Austrian freak who imprisoned his daughter for over 20 years  – and we didn’t know if we should feel more sorry for the daughter or the mother or the innocents kids.

Anyway, some hours later that night after we finally fell asleep, as I threw the blanket off while stretching my limbs, a long loud – I mean trumpet-LOUD- bubbly “PBROOOOOOOOT’ sound was heard suddenly. My eyes shot wide open. She was already awake when I turned to look at her with a mixture of innocence and guilt so I kissed her cheek gently while wrapping my arms around her. As she turned to snuggle herself into my arms, she said quietly, “You farted.”

I froze. Then without warning, I dug right into the pillow with embarrassment, whimpering, “Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. Shy shy…I didn’t meant it.”

I’ll never forget her reaction as she immediately kicked her legs off the bed and flung her butt up in the air repeatedly, dancing energetically in triumph with her arms waving in the air. Cue sounds of victory cheers.

When she calmed down to catch her breath for a bit, she said, “Your fart cuts through the silence of the night.”

And she was off dancing and celebrating again. This time, synchronising her butt movements with her hands turning in a curling motion.

Remember how I said earlier that buying macaroni and cheese was a big mistake? When we finally calmed down, I reasoned that “cheese makes me gassy” but she was too busy gloating to hear me explain.

“There was no urge or resistance at all. I didn’t even know there was a fart coming. The air just came out like that. My butt didn’t even know until we heard the sound. It was so relaxed.”

“HA, now you know how my butt felt that night.”

So yes, Internet, the score is now even. Her wish has been granted and I swear she has been dancing non-stop since. No matter how hard I tried to not talk about The Loud Bubbly Fart, I know part of the reason why she has been looking so blissful recently is because she has now heard me burp and fart in front of her and the fact I have done these private actions in front of her is something making her very happy.

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One thought on “Her celebratory dance

  1. Pingback: I love your little flaws | The Imaginarator

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