epic stench

This morning as we drove to the soccer fields, my son and his friend realized they better get their gear on. Just as I was putting a bite of a Pop Tart in my mouth, J said to me, “You might not wanna eat that, Mom. . .oh, too late.” Suddenly the WORST STENCH I’VE EVER SMELLED hit me like a sledgehammer to the face, causing my bite to taste like what I was smelling. K had opened his soccer bag and was putting on his socks and cleats. I literally began gagging and couldn’t quit, even after he got out of the car. I damn near drove off the road. I was forced to continue chewing that godawful bite that tasted just like the dark cloud of death until I could swallow and finally start breathing through my mouth instead. My eyes kept watering and my eyelashes went completely straight. As J and I were crying “Oh God, the horror!” K just kept apologizing and saying that he’s been wearing the same pair of socks since soccer tryouts began on Monday (twice a day, almost 100 degree heat). I’d rather be sprayed directly in the face by a skunk than smell that smell again. *shudder* I'm taking them after work back to the fields, and I'll be making damn sure he keeps his soccer bag in my trunk until we get to the fields, where he can put the socks on outside in the wide open wind.

I smelled the awful stench all the way to work. I STILL smell it now. I fear that the smell got in my clothes and hair, but I’m desperately hoping it’s just my imagination and that what I keep smelling is just residual stench trapped in my nose. I’m desperately trying to forget the junior high science lesson by Mr. Hornung about how when you smell something, it’s actual MICROSCOPIC PARTICLES OF THAT THING entering your nose and attaching themselves to the hair follicles in there. I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I'd have never guessed I'd be happy that today they have my front door open by my desk and are painting the door. AND I'm happy they are out there smoking, causing the smoke smell to come in my office on me. It drowns out the incessant smell of K's funkywrong socks. At this point I'd even welcome a diesel truck to park itself right outside my open office door. Frankly, I'd be surprised if that DIDN'T happen on this smellybadluck day.