EWWW, That Smell

Those of you lucky enough to have boys will recognize what I mean when I say "little boy smell".  It is a combination of odors created by sweat and dirt and leftovers from breakfast, lunch and snacks.  It can be sickeningly sweet or a little on the putrid side, depending on how much running, heat and sticky food leftovers are involved.

I've dealt with my share of little boy stank.  And each time one of my boys has ventured into this land, I knew that there would be a day that they would come out the other side, not smelling so much.  Because, for some odd reason, there is a sweet spot between about seven and nine when boys smell like nothing.

But, no amount of little boy smell could have prepared me for tonight. 

Seems Nickels had an intense workout at the karate studio.  Coupled with higher than normal temperatures outside and humidity sticky enough to bounce a quarter off of, the amount of perspiration that came out of that boy's pores was enough to cure the Texas Drought of 2011.  And then loan some water to Oklahoma, just for grins.

The boy stunk.  Period.  So, after his shower, when he was comfortably in bed and wanted a little tuck in courtesy of Momma, I gladly obliged.

As I bent down to give him a little peck and a big squeeze, I was hit* by a wall of odor that stopped me in my tracks and made me sit bolt upright and wish my nose was deaf or whatever it would be called if your nose was unable to smell anything. 

Good golly, Miss Molly.  Stink.  Stank.  Stunk.  And everything in between.

Turns out, sweet boy decided to wash every part of his body but his pits.  When he was six this would have passed the sniff test;  a bit of odor would have reminded me that he had a fun day with lots of groovy playing.  But, he's twelve now and that is no longer true.  That little bit of odor could knock a full-grown elephant off its feet.

I'm guessing this is just the beginning of a train of changes:  deodorant, Peter Brady syndrome**, zits.  I guess it's too late to worry about what have I gotten myself into.

But, I'm throwing a guess that my nose already knows.



*I think I have bruising to prove it.

**"When its time to change, you've got to rearrange."  Remember?