Smell You Later...

My grandma used to say that “a skunk can’t smell its own scent”. This comment was usually in response to my grandpa passing gas and then acting all innocent when everyone else within his vicinity was left gagging and fleeing the room.

Last night was a pleasantly warm evening and in order to enjoy what remains of the summer-like weather, I had left the bedroom windows open – content to enjoy the warmth of the evening, the gentle breeze caressing the curtains and the sounds of the crickets lulling me to sleep.

I had no sooner settled in to bed and just started to drift into a gentle slumber when the smell hits me. At first it was a slight whiff of something that I couldn’t quite place. Although it wasn’t pleasant, it wasn’t quite offensive either, but as I was lying there, the smell gained momentum – coincidentally, as J shifted positions and ruffled the covers. Hmmm, something was amiss.

“What the hell did he eat?” was my first thought, but if I’ve learned one thing in these cases, it’s best to lie still and “play dead” because movement just makes the matters worse, much, much worse.

At first, I try ignoring the smell, willing myself to sleep, but as it starts to overcome my survival instincts, I’m forced to roll away from the offending smell.

Me: “Holy hell, you stink. What did you eat today – cabbage and beans?”

J: “Me? I thought it was you.”

Me: “It’s not me. Woman don’t fart, they poof and poofs DO NOT smell like that.”

J: “Well it’s not me.”

Me: “You wouldn’t admit it even if it was you. Besides skunks can’t smell their own scent.”

J: “What does that even mean?”

As we continue to argue about whose to blame for the offending odor and the meaning of that stupid statement, I realize the smell is coming from outside the bedroom window, which is directly above our heads. As I look out the window, I see the skunk sauntering away – taking his sweet ole time, most likely laughing its ass off.

Although, I had immediately closed the bedroom windows, it was too late and by then, the odor had completely infiltrated the entire bedroom and had lodged itself in my taste buds.

Lesson learned: Don’t play dead in all life or death situations; sometimes quick and decisive action is the only course of action.