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Mom’s Yoga Fart Tale Is the Funniest Story Ever

There’s someone out there who has lived through our most terrible yoga fear — and she’s happy to tell us all about it to great comedic effect.

Mum on the Run blogger Laura Mazza has never shied away from discussing motherhood’s most absurd and appalling moments, like pooping during childbirth (oh, come on, like you didn’t).

This latest cringe-until-you-get-a-whole-body-cramp event happened in her yoga class… and her 40,000 Facebook followers cannot get enough of the hilarious details.

We’ll just drop this here. We highly recommend reading the whole gory tale. We also recommend peeing before you do.
This fart heard ’round the world occurred on July 19, and the story has garnered almost 10,000 comments and has been shared more than 10,000 times.

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In summary: Mazza — mom to Luca, 3, and Sofia, 16 months — has been trying to get in some semblance of postpartum shape after pregnancy-related abdominal wall separation.

“My stomach kinda points out like a cone,” she said. “[I]t was suggested by a [doctor] to try yoga.”

At first, the candlelit yoga class was going well for Mazza. But then her stomach decided it was not on board with Downward Dog.

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“For the past few weeks I have had IBS symptoms like something crazy,’” Mazza said. “My farts stink like something mixed between a rotten egg and an incineration plant. And somewhere between the dolphin position and the three legged dog, two of those burning garbage eggs slip out and I fart. I farted. I farted at yoga. I’m a walking cliche. My pelvic floor has failed me,” she recounted in the Facebook post.

“We move to some position where my heads [sic] between my legs, and the smell hits me like a punch to the nose,” she continued. “I died inside and now I officially smell like something has also died inside.”
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Aaaand it only got worse from there. Poor Mazza wrote, “We go down on this position where we stretch out but our legs are like a frog on the floor. The teacher then came around and pushed everyone down lower…I hold in my butthole nice and tight to make sure no farts escape again,” Mazza wrote. “She comes over…pushes my back down… And buuuuuuuuuurrppppfffffff The loudest trumpet comes out of my ass. I froze and thought oh my god. Oh my god.”

Mazza did what all of us would do: She bolted from the class, not even bothering to roll up her yoga mat.

“I’m never ever ever EVER, doing yoga again,” she wrote. “Fuck the muscle separation.”

We. Are. Crying.

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