Thursday, October 3, 2013
What is that smell?!
My oldest son found a little yellow thing on the dining room table yesterday. While I was gathering all the necessary accoutrements for soccer practice he held it up and asked what it was. I squinted at it, continued screwing on the lid of a water bottle, and said with haste and dismissal, "I don't know what it is, honey." 10 minutes later we were in the sexy mini van on the way to Evie's soccer practice when I started hearing moaning sounds coming from Luke in the backseat of he vehicle. "Ughhhh! Eeeewwww." I popped my gaze onto him through the rear view mirror, concerned that a stomach bug had suddenly hit our family and asked with a panic,"Are you okay? Are you going to throw up?!?" He groaned again but answered that he was not going to throw up and then, yes, he was sure he wasn't going to throw up. (I really don't like, or deal well with, vomit). After concluding that vomit was not imminent, I probed further. He said, "Do you remember that yellow thing I showed you?" I filtered my memory for the referenced conversation and finally answered, "Yes." He said, "I was playing with it, and it popped." He groaned again, holding up his fingers with disgust. I was certain he might have been dying. I scrunched up my forehead in thought and asked, "Does it smell good?" I was thinking it might be a air freshener bead. He moaned again and grunted, "Nooo." All the while he held his fingers up n disgust as the smell penetrated the cab of the minivan. I was thoroughly confused at that point and asked, "What does it smell like?" "I don't know", was all he could utter. When we finally arrived at our destination, I went to the back of the minivan to retrieve the soccer ball and chairs, and I saw him over the back of the chair holding his hands up precariously as if he had just conducted surgery. I leaned forward and said, "Let me smell it." Now, let me digress and assure you that this is the very last thing any mother wants to say to her child. I don't want to smell anything of his, especially something that is already making him groan in disgust. But I leaned forward and took a strong whiff of the stench on his fingers. Let this be a reminder to all of you that in science experiments they encourage you to "waft" the scent. Instead, I took a huge inhalation of what smelled like a dead fish. And suddenly, the entire situation became clear. Luke had found my fish oil pill and, after squeezing it between his fingers in fascination, he caused its contents to explode on his hands and the backseat of my car. The result is a car and a child who reek of fish. Not fun. Of course the silver lining is a son who bathed himself without prompting last night. It's the little things... So, I hereby warn you of the fish oil pill: healthy but disgusting.