Thursday, July 29, 2010

The art of the SMELL!

Donald Trump has his deal and I have mine. My skill is that I married someone who smells good. Actually my wife ‘T’ technically ’smells well’ but that sounds too close to those Nabisco reduced fat cookies for my taste … or lack thereof. Recently we had some leftover fish in the fridge and the wife could tell instantly without opening the foamy container that it was slightly past its prime. Now I don’t smell so bad myself (I know ‘badly’ – but work with me please) but nobody’s nose, knows more about airborne ‘stinkery’ than my life-long ‘SOLE mater-ly’.

Now while my spouse’s super-sensory sniffer can be helpful in avoiding poisoned leftovers, it can also be a bit of a pain at times in our otherwise perfect marriage. For example, I prefer my toast a little on the darker side but as soon as a whisp of carbonized bread begins surfing a wave of air, my wife’s warning ‘CAW’ sounds off louder than Foghorn Leghorn’s Southern 'BELL'.

Amazingly for the most part, my personal hygiene flies under the wife’s nosey radar. I’m not sure if she has become immune to my effervescent presence or that my manly stench is effectively camouflaged by the guano and wet shag carpet in our bat cave. On occasion however, after a pot of coffee and a particularly robust breakfast ration of asparagus and Sugar Wheat Puffs, Mrs.’ T’ will find it necessary to don a bulky respirator. I digress delicately, but YES those particular foods, when processed through a bloated bladder, oddly maintain their ‘di-STINKED’ pre-digested pungency, though obviously now in a decidedly saturated state.

Yeah I know by now you clearly are wondering how this magic marriage has lasted. Well I won’t lie to you, it involves a lot of hard work and some serious overtime in the Olfactory department. We go through pallets of Aqua Velva, light a lot of matches, and both ‘Vicks’ and his twin brother ‘ Vaporub’ are frequent donors to our nasal relief charity. Mrs. T and I don’t have all the answers to an effective, and odor-free union, but anyone who ‘NOSE’ us well will surely say the same thing - “They just are so STINKING lucky!”


  1. I applaud your wife for putting up with so much from you. :)

  2. I applaud her, too. Sheesh. Woman must be a saint.