They say you always remember your first time. I know I do.
Jen and I hadn’t been married long. I’m not sure how long, but the air was still warm out so it was probably in September. It was a Monday. I had just gotten home from an evening of basketball. I came up stairs, hot and sweaty, ready to take a shower. Jen was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I walked into the bathroom and we started chit-chatting about the day while she brushed her hair. As we wrapped up our conversation, I looked deep into her dark brown eyes, said, “I love you” and leaned in for a kiss. As I leaned toward her, I heard what sounded like a short bugle call. Only it wasn’t a bugle. I don’t know if it was my tired muscles or the sudden leaning forward, but my muscles relaxed and a sound as natural as a baby’s laugh (but not quite as beloved) slipped out. And that was the first time I farted in front of my wife. They say you always remember your first. Is that what they mean?