What Smells Worse Than That?

Let’s play a game.

The game is called, “What smells worse than that?”

Ready?

Here we go.

When my son entered adolescence, he discovered a fragrance. A fragrance that is worn by most teenaged boys to cover up something pretty rank. The smell they are trying to mask is the smell of teen aged boy body odor. Now that, in and of itself, can be a very bad smell.

But what smells worse than teen aged boy body odor?

“Not much,” you’re going to say. Right?

And you’d be right.

Unless it’s this:

The Bane of My Existence for a few years. 

My boy never really did stink much, au naturel. He has always been pretty good about keeping clean. But other teens were wearing this gosh-awful fragrance, and he fell victim to the delusion that this was a good smell. A powerful smell? Yes, I could agree with that: it was powerful indeed. But good? Not so much.

The goodness of a scent is in the olfactory of the sniffer, is it not?
An armpit on any other adolescent would not smell as sweet.

(In my son’s defense, I will admit that in my own adolescence, I too, fell victim to group-scent-think. I wore Jovan’s Musk Oil with the best of them. Our junior high smelled like it had been invaded by a colony of sex-starved muskrats. You mix junior high aged pheromones with musk oil, and the result will be some kind of heady, odoriferous cloud that hangs in the air like the chemicals Union Carbide was emitting into our local atmosphere back then. But no, baby, it was just us teenagers, and there was a whole LOT of stinkin’ goin’ on.)
(I will also add that in the years following those,  I have, in turn, fallen prey to Love’s Fresh Lemon, Love’s Baby Soft, Calvin Klein’s Obsession, and Estée Lauder’s Cinnabar. Some phases were worse than others. So, really, my honeysuckle blossom hasn’t fallen far from his sweet-smelling vine. Know what I mean?)
Happily, my boy is growing up. The Axe phase seems to have been chopped down at the root. I couldn’t be happier. These days, a new scent has entered our home.
“I’m on a horse. Hyah!”

Let’s all just take a moment to appreciate Isaiah Mustafa, shall we? Moving on…

I remember bottles of Old Spice sitting on my Dad’s chest of drawers. I never cared for that smell, either. The smell of Dad’s aftershave, mixed with car exhaust, plus a 30 minute car ride to church on country West Virginia roads = one carsick babygirl Susan in the Boonies. Scent is a powerful thing, isn’t it? Such memories it evokes.
Thankfully, my boy is not using the traditional Old Spice scent, but a couple of the variations on Old Spice that they have come up with since the ad campaign with Isaiah Mustafa helped their sales go through the roof. My son uses an Old Spice body wash and one of their deodorants, and they’re not the worst things I’ve ever smelled, and are certainly a step up from Axe.
Which brings us to the next question in our little game: what smells worse than Old Spice Body Wash?
So…yesterday morning, we’re all getting ready for church. Well, most of us were. My son had already taken himself to church, where he was playing in the band. (And they did such a great job, too!) Here’s a little picture of my sweet smelling offspring, yesterday at church:
Offering up the sweet smell of praise to his Lord.

So, like I said, the rest of us were getting ready to go, the dogs were taking care of their dog business outside in the woods, before they come back in to guard the house. I hear the sharp “Woof!” of Deacon D. Dog, indicating business has been taken care of, and he’s ready to come back inside. Then I hear it again. “Woof!” And again, “Woof, woof!!!” Why is no one letting the dog in? They’re all downstairs, ready, waiting for me to finish getting ready. “Woof! Woof! Woof!!!”

“Would somebody let the dog in, for crying out loud?” I yell.
“Mom…” my daughter calls. 
“Dad wants to know if we have any dog shampoo…!”
Because apparently, a reasonable facsimile of THIS was barking at the door.
One man’s stink is another dog’s treasure.

 We actually took this picture at an earlier date, because turkey-poo-rolling is a sport Mr. Stenchy enjoys from time to time.
So, in keeping with my theme of “What smells worse than that?” the only reasonable answer could be, Deakie Boy, wet (because we ALL know there’s nothing like the fragrance of wet dog, alone, to knock you over) + turkey poo + Old Spice Body Wash, the “High Endurance” variety.
We were so glad to get out of the house for a few hours and go to church, where we offered up our hopefully sweet smelling praises to God, who I suspect may find some of our prayers about as stinky as Deacon D. Dawg. 
I am happy to report that upon our return, the odor of wet dog poopiefied perfuminess had been knocked down a level or two.
So, tell me: surely I’m not the only one! What scent-lemmings have you followed off the cliff of good scents/sense? Confess!!!! Don’t leave me sitting here all alone in my stench!


Yum
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