I went to a Pilates class yesterday with a friend. I’m not really into that one-with-the-earth kind of New Age lifestyle but it was a good way to kill an hour. Pilates focuses on the core with some stretching exercises thrown in. One of the moves was basically a sit-up but you had to do it with your arms straight out in front of you. You were supposed to lie completely straight with your arms stretched out over your head and then lift your body up into a sitting position while keeping your hips on the mat.
The room was dim, the instructor was speaking very softly and there was gentle music playing in the background. It was supposed to be very peaceful. However, the woman next to me was really struggling with this move and would grunt while she propelled herself up. She never really made it completely into the sitting position but she sure was trying. On the last one she gave it all she had. As she flung herself forward, out came a giant flatulence. It echoed through the entire room. I immediately started laughing because I come from a long line of ancestors who think farts are funny. It’s a genetic trait. I looked over at my friend to get a good laugh with her about the fog horn next to me, and I was appalled at what I saw. She was just lying there with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and focusing on the exercises. I couldn’t believe it! I scanned the faces of everyone in my vicinity and they were all very Zen and completely ignoring the fact that this woman rolled onto a bullfrog. I laid there on my mat and discretely snickered all alone. Why was I the only one laughing?
Because I’m immature.
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