The other day I walk into the living room, where Brian and his two buddies have just plopped their teenage bodies down on the furniture after running around outside. They are out of breath and laughing. Before I can open my mouth to speak (in my usual boy-annoy mother tone) something hits me in the face, almost bringing me to my knees. My eyes water. My menopause nose hair shrivel.
To my great shock, I am suddenly engulfed by offensively malodorous air. What in the hell just died? I look around the room searching for a dead animal the cat brought in, only to notice the boys have removed their shoes.
No, this funky, ill-scented, stinking, noisome, foul smell can not be coming from them. That’s my boy over there – he bathes every day. I race to the windows, opening them as wide as I can. I contemplate kicking a large hole in the wall, but I’m starting to turn purple from holding my breath. Creating a large enough hole could take too long.
“Mom?”
“Mom?”
I run outside and gasp for air like a Dyson in a vacuum commercial. I almost inhale a fly buzzing 20 feet from me.
“What?”
“Can you come in here?”
Please God no.
“No.”
“Mom?”
I stand at the screen, but the smell is floating towards me.
“Yes?”
“Come in here?”
“How about you boys come out here?”
Sigh
“OK”
Suddenly I can’t take it anymore.
“God, you boys smell bad!”
“Yeah we know! Isn’t it great??”
“New rule. All socks and shoes stay outside from now on.”
“Why? We like it.”
“Outside.”
“God Mom. You’re no fun.”
Dear Lord,
What happened to my sweet smelling, perfect hair, well-dressed boy and what have you done with him? Will he be back any year soon?
Sincerely,
Brian’s mom
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
This content is published under the Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.
Share and Enjoy
Other Posts You Might Enjoy
Comments
Powered by Facebook Comments
Your boy is becoming a man! That funky smell is why I avoid the gym in the evenings, when it’s filled with sweaty guys.
Sounds like the guy hormones are starting to kick in…good luck.
I have seven grandchildren, four a boys and can I relate to this post. It never gets better until they marry. Boys, men usually don’t care about their smells. It’s like a badge of courage.
Dorothy from grammology
remember to call gram
http://www.grammology.com