Diarrhea Pants

So, I have been thinking about starting a blog for the past month or so, and since my life has got a little calmer here recently (as some of you may know!), I have decided to go ahead and start one. I was talking to Dave and asking him about how we should do our blog because I didn't want it to be "dorky". He responded by telling me that blogs in general are dorky. He then admitted that he actually had never looked at anyone's blog so he was speaking ignorantly. So, being the loving, sweet, forgiving wife that I am, I thought it only fitting to start our oh-so-dorky blog off by sharing a story with you all about my cute husband....
So the other day we went to the gym. Dave was wiping down the treadmill, as all courteous gym-goers do, when he decided that he had to fart (in all fairness to my mom, she did teach me a more appropriate way of talking about this not so elegant subject, but-I must blame it on the Martell name!) and could not wait until he left the treadmill. So, he quietly let one out and then left to the row directly in front of the treadmills to start on the elliptical machine. About five seconds later he heard a lady directly behind him tell her friend, "That kid just let out a huge fart and then left! (Loud enough to ensure Dave and everyone else within ear shot would hear...) Thanks Mr. Stinky!" At which point Dave heard her friend say, "Wait, where are you going?" To which the lady replied, "To get away from Diarrhea Pants!".