Our web programmer says the darndest things sometimes. Like some of the guys upstairs, he’ll get into a junior high mode and make farting sounds with his mouth. Today, he did that, and I just sat there, wrinkled my nose and said, “Ew, ew, ew.”

Then, absolutely straight-faced, he told me, “It’s okay. Every time a person farts, a little bean goes up to heaven.”

I can’t even imagine the comical look that must have been on my face. I couldn’t tell if he was pulling my leg or if it was some Mexican folk tale he seriously believed. “What did you say?” I asked.

“Every time a person farts, a little bean goes up to heaven.”

Good God. All I could think about was Jimmy Stewart and a little girl at Christmas time, having a wonderful life, when out of the blue someone farts. The little girl then points at the perpetrator and exclaims quite happily, “Look, Daddy! Teacher says that every time a person farts, a little bean goes up to heaven.”

Jimmy Stewart then smiles, winks up at heaven and says, “Atta boy, little bean. Atta boy.”

The imaginary tableau was just too much for me. I was in hysterics for half an hour, gasping for breath every time I thought of it and breathlessly asking the web programmer where in all the earth he ever heard of such a thing.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, catching on to my laughter and grinning. “I think my grandfather made it up.”

Well, good for him, I thought. It’s actually kind of a nice—though horrifyingly strange—thought… little beans going to heaven. I mean, if they’re good for your heart, they must be good enough to gain access through the Pearly Gates.

Um…

Right?

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