Remember that intoxicating smell of a newborn that set your ovaries into overdrive? Even holding a baby that isn’t yours will have your baby maker screaming for one of it’s own. They smell of new life, hope and innocence.
I miss that smell. That lovely smell has turned into a smell that I like to compare to a rotten carcass. A little harsh? No, have you smelled my son? Next you may ask, “Do you give him a bath?” Yes, I do bathe him often. Yes, he also brushes his teeth twice a day.
To be honest with you, I am convinced there is a secret society at his school which makes it mandatory to run around as much as possible, while trekking through sewage pools. Every day I pick him up he is doused in sweat, has dirt under his nails, and painted arms compliments of Crayola markers. Once we get home and remove his shoes: HOLD your noses people because your nostrils just may burn off. It’s worse than a teenaged boy’s locker room.
I scrub his his feet every night, why do they smell like rotten cheese and vinegar? We are going to go broke buying new shoes every few months! We have even put powder in his shoes to no avail. Once in the airport he was telling everyone at the gate, “Momma says I have stinky feet.” Not too many found it funny. I, of course, thought it was hilarious.
At one point I was afraid he might be the smelly kid at school, but not the case. All those little petri dishes (a.k.a. his friends in class), have the same problem according to their parents.
When he is at home on the weekends with us, the smell-o-meter definitely drops significantly. Maybe I should start sending him to school in a bubble. Either way, I guess this is preparing me for when he is a teen and smells even worse. God help me, and my nose.