With my son’s birth, I expected to have to let go of some of my inhibitions. I was prepared, for example, for people to see my nipple as I tried to feed my child. I soon became prepared for people to hear my off-key “singing” as I tried to comfort my child. But there was one thing, I was not certainly not prepared for.
People would think that I had passed gas when in fact it was the baby!
With musical instruments, often the size of the item dictates its tone. Take for example the xylophone. The longer bars produce the deep, reverberating low-pitched sounds. Meanwhile the smaller bars have the more delicate, high-pitched notes. What is true for xylophones is not true for anuses and butt cheeks!
At nearly 10 weeks of age, my son’s sphincter is just a fraction of the size of an adult. Yet, the sounds he produces are identical in both pitch and volume of an anus well beyond his years.
Now, I have spent my adult life trying to minimize the amount of audible flatulence. Granted, this effort got substantially more difficult during pregnancy, but I still managed to skate through with limited incidents.
But babies don’t care who hear! And where are babies frequently located? A parent’s lap! That means the baby’s rear end is just inches away from the parent’s. The baby doesn’t have to master throwing sounds like a ventriloquist. He merely needs to let one rip and just by his placement the origin of the sound is automatically ambiguous.
On more than one occasion in my mommyhood, I have been put in the awkward social situation where it sounds like I’m to blame. Instinctively, I clarify to anyone in the vicinity. Still, there are skeptics. This conversation occurred over the weekend between my mother and I.
[Baby Sagan passes gas]
Vicky: That wasn’t me!
Mom: Are you sure?
Mom (skeptical): It sounded like you.
Vicky (as Mom walks away): But, it wasn’t me!!!
If I have trouble convincing my own mother, what hope do I have with strangers? 🙂