Tag Archives: stink

Smells like Christmas

25 Dec

I was going to blog about this

Some of Aaron’s relatives came over for Christmas breakfast and presents this morning.  I was going to blog about eating waffles with stewed strawberries, real maple syrup, and ice cream, plus cheesy eggs and bacon and cinnamon rolls for breakfast, opening a million presents, and not actually cooking the turkey I bought because it was 33 degrees (91.4 F) and we really didn’t want the oven on all day in that heat, but then something happened.  Something so funny that I had to blog about it instead.  Something I had to change someones name for in order to be given permission to actually blog about it.  I’m just going to refer to the relative in this story as “Alex” because without changing the spelling, Alex can be a girls, or a boys name.  Plus, the person in this story doesn’t want to be named due to possible death by embarrassment.

“I think Hannah’s nappy bucket needs changing.”  Alex said to Grandma.  I put Hannah’s dirty nappies in a small, sealed, garbage bag lined bucket, changing it when it gets full (which is pretty much every day, as I said, it’s small).  “It’s really smelly.”

Grandma opened the poo bucket, tied the garbage bag shut, and took it to the bin outside.  She re-lined the bucket and put the lid back on.

“It still smells, we really need to find out what that smell is.”  Alex said, as he/she sniffed around the house.

I went in Hannah’s room.  No smell in there.  I could definitely smell something in the hall area.  “It smells like sewerage or something.”  I said to Grandma.

Grandma went outside, sniffing as she walked.  “There’s nothing out here.”

She went out the back, fearing that maybe, just maybe, the pipes were leaking and  poo was coming up through the ground.  “Nothing out here.”

“Hannah, time to brush your teeth.”

“No!”  No is her favorite answer to everything.

“Too bad, come on.”  I picked her up and headed to the bathroom.

As we neared the door, the smell assaulted our nostrils.  “Grandma, I found the source of the smell!”  Aaron checked the toilet to see if someone had left a nasty surprise by accident.  Nothing there, only the smell.

“Who’s been in the bathroom?”  Grandma asked.  “Never mind, that’s not important, it doesn’t matter, it just matters that we found the smell.”  It was lingering.  Too bad the fan doesn’t work.

“But I smelled something before I used the bathroom.”  Alex said

“Yeah, but you’ve been farting all day.”  I told him/her.

“No I haven’t.”

“Um…yes you have, we heard you.  Plus, Grandma said the smell was really strong in your room, she just felt bad and didn’t want to tell you.”

“Oh.  Oh yeah, I did too.  Oh, sorry, I guess it was me.”

Maybe it was all the chocolate, cheese, cookies, cinnamon rolls, and eggs.  Whatever it was, it was bad.

 

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Why I need my own gloves

22 Aug

Sure it’s hard, but I love boxing class at the gym.  We do circuit training, it’s not just hitting the pads for a bit then having a relax.  No, we go hard on the pads, then do squats or lunges or bunny hops or sit ups, push ups, etc, then go hard on the pads again.  Boy do we sweat though!

Sweating is usually a good thing when you’re working out, but when you’re using the gym’s boxing gloves that countless other people have used and you’re sharing them with your boxing partner, sweat is not such a good thing.  When I put my hands into boxing gloves, I expect them to be clean, cold, dry, and if I’m really lucky, smelling like daisies.  Instead, when I put my hands in those boxing gloves, I get wet, warm, sticky fabric clinging to my hands.  When I take my hands out, they stink.  It smells like someone has put the sweat from a hundred people’s butt cracks into one innocent little boxing glove and then left it out in the sun to ferment for a couple of weeks.  Now that stench is clinging to my hands.  I don’t really want to wipe it on my pants because then it will be on my pants.  I wonder how often the gym washes the gloves.  Ewww…..  I think it’s time to buy my own.  Sure, they may still get smelly and hot and sticky, but at least that way, I’ll know it’s only my sweat, and I can wash them as soon as I get home.

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