Pre-School Is a Gas


Miquelont Murray

* Strong Sniff * I love the smell of fresh construction paper in the morning. All that bright color that can knock me senseless with its beauty.

The pre-school day has just begun, but I have to be honest. I almost fell trying to walk through the door with exhaustion. The rancid, snobby boys screamed about Diego’s next adventure. The obnoxious, vile girls bragged about the new edition happy birthday Barbie doll.

Nap Time.

Hugging teachers grabbed us with their paralyzing stench of Dunkin Donuts with a hint of cigarettes. Some days I try to guess what flavor their coffee is. The new students scream and laugh and teachers try to soothe everyone to sleep.

I was in no position to sleep.  My heart rate was rising and my anxiety was jacked.

It was time. I needed to pass some gas. Yes.  I had to do it on my sleepy time mat.

I always wondered why my mother hated the word fart. I want to fart. I need to fart. I must fart.  But it sounds so wrong.

When I say fart people think I’m disgusting. But when I say pass gas, they think I’m uptight. Like I have a board… nevermind.

“What did she just say?”

Toot (cute). Detonate the Atomic Bomb (apocalyptic). The Act of Breaking Wind (romantic). Cut the Cheese (elementary school).  Sorry, I just polluted the air (debonair).

Is the odor the sole reason people find farting so offensive? Passing gas is a natural act that all humans do voluntary and involuntary.  Fun fact: The average person farts 14-24 times a day.

How many times do you Pollute the Air, mesdames et messieurs?

Let’s be frank about the farting, even in pre-school.

It seems to me that baby women are held to a higher standard. If you are female, you hold it in until you burst… or die.  That’s another fun fact.

So, here I am, a Baby Woman in preschool, holding in my gas while I lie on my green fuzzy sleepy time mat.  Baby Men are screaming G.I Joe style.  Baby Women were Barbie-ing with style.

As relaxed into a cookie-induced dreamstate, the cloud released, above the sleepy time mat and floated to the ceiling above it all, an odor finer than construction paper in the morning.

I was oblivious.  The others were disgusted while some nevermind.