Marriage is a Gas. Literally.

We’ve all had those moments.

Those moments when we’re using everything in the toolbox to not let one squeak. Maybe it was your first date. Perhaps it was the first time she slept over at your apartment. Cheeks clinched, eyebrows sweating, your nervous eyes darting around every corner of the room.

You did everything you possibly could to contain the methane within.

It could be nothing. But it could be something.

It could be volatile. It could be the worst. It could be the worst, ever. It could smell like cauliflower and broccoli florets dipped in egg and dog hair, then lit on fire. You just never know.

But once you move in together, once you begin a life together, how courteous and cautious are you?

Here, we discuss.

And there you have it.

I, for one, do my best to walk away or go to the bathroom, mostly. But after a 12-hour shift with three kids under five, I’ll be damned if I’m going to peel myself off the sofa at 11pm to find a dark corner to waft in.

Pinch your nose, I’m comin’ in hot.