Once my husband and I met, we only had two weeks to spend together before he moved two states away to continue his training in the military. We spent as much of that time together as possible. He loved that I was so unashamedly human - and all the things that come along with that - and would allow my belches (no one could ever teach me how to do it on purpose either, but they still happen naturally) AND farts to just...happen. I would never intentionally do so, and would still try to hold back in (not-so-) polite company (personally, I don't think anyone should ever have to apologize for having digestive side effects - if you intentionally did something rude with it yeah, but not for having them in the first place - and anyone who would ask you to is the one being rude), but everyone always knew when I belched, and if it was questioned I would always own up to a fart.

So anyway, whenever I would burp around my husband, inspired by my non-girly attitude about it, he would tell me, "I love you." And for the 11 weeks we spent apart until we were married (minus one for when I visited him for Thanksgiving), whenever I burped I would think of him, and thinking of him always made me happy.

Even now that we're married (coming up on our first anniversary!), whenever either of us farts, one of us will inevitably say, "Poot," occasionally drawing out the word to match the length of the fart, adding emotional emphasis to indicate relief or stench, and/or maybe the word just comes out in a, "Whoah sorry. Stinky poot." Apologizing for the smell of course, not for the gas.

I value that we've had the ability to transcend petty issues and that this one in particular has even become a source of humor, bringing us closer together.