Johnny had never been one to stifle a fart.
The kids had followed suit.
To Rebecca, it often seemed as if an ensemble of deranged trumpeters was loose in the house. Exasperated, she announced a new house rule: “You have to go outside to fart.”
“But I’ll be outside more than I’m inside,” Johnny complained.
He and the boys complied, however, and some nights they’d be outside for ages, pulling each other’s fingers and roaring with laughter.
Inside, though appreciating the clean air, Rebecca, having paused the show they’d all been watching, would not only feel impatient but strangely excluded.
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