Smell This!

This weekend Jack and I were in his car on our way to a restaurant when, per usual, I cranked up the air conditioning. You see, for some reason my body temperature seems to run about 10 degrees warmer than Jack's.

"Sweaty?" he asks me.

"Of course. Ooh! But I got this new deodorant that I just love. I got it at Etsy.com and the person who sells it has all these all-natural products, and some are vegan!"

"Does it work?"

"Well, yes - but it's just a deodorant, not an anti-perspirant, so it doesn't stop me from sweating."

"Clearly."

[Rolling eyes] "Whatever! It smells so good. Like baby powder."

"Let me smell."

So, without hesitation (I think a normal person might have hesitated?), I held up my arm so Jack could take a whiff while we were at a stop light. As soon as he did, we both looked at each other, looked out our windows, and realized that the occupants of the cars on either side of us definitely just saw this very inappropriate intimate moment.

"Those people definitely think we're weird."

"Yes...yes, they do."

And This is How My Day Started....

I'm a snooze button gal. Every morning the alarm rings at 6:40 and I hit 'snooze' again and again until 7:00 or 7:10. Since Jack usually doesn't have to be up until 7:45 or so, he finds this somewhat annoying (no idea why). This morning, I actually got up after hitting snooze once because Spot was asking to go out anyway. I took him out and then decided to snooze on the couch for a few more minutes. I was joined by my darling cat, Kitty.

Now, I've shared my home with Kitty for 8 years, and with Spot for 5 and a half, so as you might imagine, I've had my fair share of gross or unappealing pet-related experiences (Spot just peed on the recycling last week, for example - indoors). But what happened this morning takes the cake. Kitty was walking all over me making sure I was petting her in just the right places when all of a sudden I smelled something that wasn't so pleasant. "(Sniff, sniff, sniff), what is that?", I asked myself. Then for some reason I decided to touch my face - I don't know why. It was simultaneously a good and bad decision. The bad part of the decision was that in touching my face I got cat poo on my hand. The good part is that I got cat poo OFF MY FACE. Kitty must not have cleaned up very well after dropping her last deuce, and somehow managed to leave the remnants of that last potty visit on my cheek. In a state of shock, I rushed to the bathroom, turned on the light and checked my face for more poop (I hope that is the only time I ever say those words). Seeing none, I washed the watery brown goo off my hand with an excess of soap. Then I did the same to my face - soap, soap, soap it up!

Given that Jack sometimes thinks my pets are difficult to deal with, part of me didn't want to tell him what had happened. But the bigger part of me - the part that had just gotten cat poop on her face and needed to tell someone - won. I ran upstairs, woke him up, and told him this story. Then, despite my many assurances that I had scrubbed my face excessively, he refused to kiss me goodbye. Rude, don't you think?!

His love is so conditional.

An Open Letter to Jack's Dentist

Dear Dr. Miller, DDS:

You've been my dentist for the past six years. Every six months or so, you check out my teeth and give me some things to work on (e.g., "floss every day," "use a Sonicare," "drink less red wine"). Well after last week's check-up, I decided that it's time for me to provide you with some things to work on.

(1) Brush your teeth before every appointment. Have you noticed how I always show up for my check-up with a freshly cleaned mouth? Well, you should do the same. That dentist mask you're wearing is not nearly as resistant as you apparently think it is. So if you feel the need to polish off a can of sour cream & onion Pringles and a bottle of Mr. Pibb right before you see me, at least have the decency to swirl some Listerine. Please?

(2) Do not ask me open-ended questions while keeping your instruments stuffed down my throat. Seriously. Are you not familiar with what it takes to speak? One needs to be able to move their mouth, for starters. If you're going to limit yourself to yes or no questions (e.g., "do you need a rinse?" "nice weather, huh?" "do you mind if I take off my pants?"), ask away. But do not - I REPEAT, DO NOT - ask me to summarize the plot of Slumdog Millionaire while simultaneously immobilizing my jaw and applying fluoride.

(3) Back. The. F'. Up. You know all of those fancy tools you have on that tray next to you? Are you sure one of them isn't a magnifying glass? See, if you had a magnifying glass, then you probably wouldn't have to get FOUR INCHES AWAY FROM MY FACE to see whatever it is you need to see. Sometimes I get confused: are you trying to clean my teeth or give me mouth-to-mouth? On a related note, did you just eat a can full of Pringles?

(4) Don't Insult Me With a Free 25 Cent Toothbrush. After causing (a) aching in my teeth, (b) swelling in my gums, (c) numbness in my jaw - and after (d) nearly drowning me with that hose/rinsing tool - do not expect to "make it all better" by giving me a cheap, plastic toothbrush with five limp bristles. Would it really kill you to spend the extra $1.49 to hook me up with a toothbrush that I'd actually consider using for something other than cleaning my sink? You and I both know you're going to charge my insurance company more than enough to cover the cost.

See you in six months,

Jack

To Stink or Not to Stink?

Jack washed my winter parka earlier this week, because, as he so delicately put it, "you look like you work at Jiffy Lube". You'd think I could wash my own, and you'd be right, but Jack tends to feel a greater sense of urgency as it pertains to cleanliness, as it were. So anyway, he washed my Jiffy Lube parka, and then returned it in a plastic bag the next day.

Last night I opened that plastic bag and decided that clearly he had put the jacket in there without fully drying it, resulting in a "damp" smell - you know the kind, right? I made him smell it and he detected nothing (or CLAIMED to detect nothing), so I let it go, even though I was pretty sure it was stinky. Later in the evening I felt a little bad for accusing him of doing an inadequate job while doing a favor for me, so I texted him, "I'm sorry I said my coat smelled. It doesn't. Thank you for washing it."

His reply?

"I figured out what probably smelled funny to you: cleanliness. :-)"

Sadly, I think he has a point. Either that or he's trying to make me stinky to deter all my other suitors? Tough call.