One day I met a nice gentleman and fell in love. We had to get married, so I stopped eating my favorite food ... baked beans.
A few months later, on my birthday, I broke down on my way home. So I called my husband to tell him I would be late because I had to walk to the house.
Walking, I pass a small restaurant where emits a smell of baked beans to which I can not resist. Given the miles that I have to walk, I tell myself that the "effects" would surely have passed before arriving home. Then I stopped and, without noticing it, I had eaten three large portions of baked beans.
When I arrived, I was surprised to see my husband, who was already excited to see me and exclaims: "Honey, I have a surprise for dinner tonight."
So he puts a scarf over my eyes and makes me sit down at the table. As I sit down, the phone rings just as he was going to take off the scarf. He makes me promise not to touch it until he comes back and will answer.
The beans that I had swallowed were still making an impact (thunder) and the pressure was becoming untenable; so my husband was not in the room, so I took advantage of it. I moved my weight on one leg and escaped one. Not only was it noisy, but the smell was like that of a scrap truck passing over a skunk!
I took my napkin to circulate the air around me vigorously. Swinging my weight on the other leg, I evacuated three more. The smell was worse than the cooked cabbage.
Attentive to my husband's conversation in the other room, I continued for a few minutes. The pleasure was indescribable. While greetings on the phone signaled the end of my freedom, I waved around with my briefcase, replaced it on my lap and crossed my hands, relieved and proud of me.
My face reflected innocence on my husband's return who apologized for being so long. He asked me if I had cheated and looked around him; I assured him that no.
It was then that he took off the scarf and twelve guests seated around the table shouted in chorus:
" Happy Birthday ! "