“Sometimes,” he says as he’s backing out of the driveway, “I smell…”
His pause is long enough that I consider his statement on its own.
“Sometimes you smell?! Sometimes???”
Baaaa-haaa-ha-ha-ha!
I can’t help it. This is hilarious to me.
“I have been with you for twenty years, Smotch. I concur. Definitely, sometimes you smell.”
He lets me have my moment. We are, after all, VERY married. The stinky-ness of Smotch has been a Fact of Life for a long time now. Forgotten wet socks in the trunk of my car (“Oh THAT’S where I put those when I changed out of my waterlogged togs!”), hours worth of yard-work sweat build-up hovering close to my nose when we finish the garden (“When we’re done here, we DEFINITELY need to shower!”), and bodily functions too terrible to describe.
Yes. Sometimes he smells.
His point, however, had to be further expounded on. Something about ‘incomplete thought’ and mutterings about ‘need to finish what I was saying’ accompanied a more expansively worded, “Sometimes I smell something electrical burning.” Which, of course, is not a cause for laughter.
But still.
Sometimes he smells.
And later that day:
“I need to get a full face.”
Ah, the nuances of LTR Language…
Smells are something that can attract or repel. Who likes what.