Plays The Farting Part Of The Parting Fart

(My mother makes the mistake of offering to pick up a lady from one of her church groups. From then on, the lady pretty much expects to be picked up and dropped off for their group and for church on Sundays. Dad is getting a bit fed up.)

Dad: “Can’t [Lady] get someone else to pick her up?”

Mum: “Oh, come on. We drive right past her house.”

Dad: “Yeah, I know. I’d just like to get to and from church without being farted at.”

Me: *laughing* “Farted at?”

Mum: “Yeah, she always leaves with what we call a ‘parting fart.’”

Dad: “It’s not funny! She has to sit in the front seat and it gets aimed at me every time, and then I have to lean into it because she won’t shut the door properly.”

Mum: “It’s not just you; I get it on Tuesdays!”

(About a week later, I am coming back from church with my Dad. He’s taking the lady home and, true to his word, she farts as she gets out of the car. I instantly wind my window down.)Dad:*winds my window up* “Nope, you can suffer, too. Next time you won’t laugh at me.”