When children are born every one goes on about how good they smell. The smell like gentle soap, new skin, and just… Baby. It's not like they're doing anything to actually get dirty and make a smell. Eventually, when their diet changes a little, the stuff that comes out of them smells, but that's not actually them. They still smell like gentle soap and new skin.
Within the reach the age where they are running and playing. Sometimes playing outside. Then they will come inside from playing and have a bit of an odor. The odor, however, is not that bad. The reason for this is it's not actually them that smells. Underneath the odor day probably still smell like gentle soap and new skin but they have an overlay of dirt. Sand. Grass. Like little well tuned playing machines, they don't generate smells of their own. They just smell like whatever they been playing in. It's easy to wash off, and when you get right down to it dirt itself doesn't actually smell bad.
Then they reach a certain age. I'll only speak from my own experience on this, so I'm not actually talking about girls here. I have a boy. I have a boy and I was very aware of when he reached that certain age. For my son, specifically, that certain age was eight; I'm going to kind of assume that four boys in general that's about the age when this happens.
At that certain age, eight for my son, they begin to generate their own smells.
When he doesn't brush his teeth you can tell the first time he speaks. From a distance of up to 8 feet.
When you ask him if he's had a shower already, and he says 'yes', for verification just wait until he moves. When he disturbs the air, if he has not actually showered, a strange, dare I say 'funky', smell will waft across the room.
When he kicks off his shoes, you know. Period. Wherever you are in the house. If in the morning before school he cannot find his sneakers, you simply follow your nose.
Last night, right before sundown, my son Handsome got involved in a water fight. He wound up standing in the kitchen, shivering a little and asking for a towel. He was soaked to the skin, every article of clothing he was wearing was saturated. Including his sneakers. Rather than throw the sneakers in the dryer last night, and keep people awake with the thud-thud-thud-thud that would be coming from the dryer, I waited until today. They were still wet when they went in, but they were dry when they came out. When I took them out there seemd to be a bitter, burning smell coming from the dryer. Worried that I had damaged the belt or overheated the motor, I stuck my head in the drum and took a sniff. I could still smell it, but it seemed faint. I looked at the sneakers but I had tossed on the floor and thought No way. There was no soap involved but at least they were washed with water. It can't be them. I picked up one shoe just as Handsome came down to the laundry room, and I took a sniff.
My sinuses cleared. My eyes started to water. My lunch leapt up into my throat, bringing my stomach with it.
"Oh my God!" I said.
"What?" Said Handsome.
I grabbed the other shoe and chucked the two of them at him, where they landed at his feet.
"Put them on! Put them on now!"
He looked at me quizzically, and opened his mouth, probably to ask what was going on.
"Don't ask any questions, just put the shoes on! Sit right there," I pointed at the bottom cellar step, "and put those things on. Please!"
Apparently, I'll never learn. Whether it's his breath when I'm trying to move him while he's sleeping, or the smell that comes off his feet even in shoes that I assume are clean, my son has some powerful smells.
I'm dreading the next phase in this particular development of his.
It can't be good.
It can't be good.
Talk you later!