I had a shower last night around 10:00pm, during the Amazing Race. I shampooed, I conditioned, I face-washed, I bodywashed, scrubby scrubby scrubby. I even ran the razor down my my legs and underarm stubble. I was fresh as a daisy, shiny and new, like a virgin with a waxed yoohoo.I sat on the couch, wearing my white comfy bathrobe, with my hair wrapped up in a white comfy bathtowel. Hubby went to have a shower also.
When he returned, we sat on the couch together and watched the Amazing Race, both of us fresh as daisies, shiny and new, like virgins.
Then something seized my attention. "What's that smell?!" I wondered.
My first horrified and doubting thought was "...is that my yoohoo?" But this smelled NOTHING like ANYBODY'S yoohoo might be expected to smell. Plus, I just don't have issues like that with my yoohoo. It was like moldy cheese that had been consumed along with feces, and then vomitted back up where some FRESH moldy cheese had been added in, and left to waft in the wind.
I was tired. I thought that maybe I was imagining it. Those antibiotics were probably just screwing with my senses. But that smell, that disgusting wet putrid smell, kept on gently ebbing and flowing back and forth in front of my nostrils. I shifted my weight, and moved around my robe, to see if a stronger waft would come out at me, indicating that there was something terribly wrong with my body. No such indication.
I finally glanced over at Eric during a commercial break, nervous that he had smelled it too, and thought it was my yoohoo. What did I see??
HE HAD HIS FINGERS BURIED IN HIS TOES, DIGGING OUT TOE-PASTE!
I gaped at him in horror. "Is that smell coming from you?!!!" I shrieked.
His jaw dropped, he gaped back in horror. "You can smell it?!!?!!" he gasped.
He jumped to his (clearly rotting) feet and ran away. I sat immobilized on the couch, wanting to die. He started babbling... "Oh my god, I'm sorry. It smells SO BAD!! I peeled off my toenail and I held it up to my nose - like this! And it was SO DISGUSTING! But I didn't think you would be able to smell it!!"
I screamed back about how I could totally smell it for the past 15 minutes. And he went on to reiterate how he had been basking in the raunchyness, secure in the delusion that I couldn't smell what he was smelling. I screamed back that I had been sitting two feet away from him. And he demonstrated several times by holding the offending estranged toenail up to his nose "I sniffed it - like this! And it was SO GROSS!" And I screamed back at him to STOP DOING THAT.
He then sat down in the hallway in his underwear with a pair of clippers and a paper towel, and he removed several small piles of black toe-paste from under his toenails. Then he clipped his nails extremely short, and got back in the shower - under protest - to wash his feet again.
This confirms all theories - boys are disgusting, they have germs, and they smell.
I will end with a despairing haiku.
I was fresh and clean
Then his foot stench raped my soul
Why me? Why me? Why?
4 comments:
Sorry wifey, I thought that you were still sick and congested and couldn't smell much because the antibiotics were messing with your system.
And I definitely didn't think that the smell was so potent that you could smell it from where you were siting.
I think that I must have activated the smell by trying to clean it out. You know kind of like an animal's defense mechanism. Kind of like how a skunk will spray a stinky smell if you scare it, my toe jam released the stinky smell when I tried to get rid of it. Do you think that means it's alive?!?
Ah well, at least it's gone now. :)
Again, I'm really sorry!
Don't worry, I have never had this kind of problem before.
On one hand, I am shocked and mortified and angry that this private story was published!
On the other hand, I'm nosy and find this toe jam story quite fascinating.
Dear soup na(t)zi,
Rest assured that Eric was aware that this story would be published, and that if I hadn't written it, he would have.
That's not to say that this was his idea - it was his punishment for having grotty feet. In fact, I saved him time and energy by writing it for him.
Hey, he knew I was like this. He knew when he married me. He needs not your pity, for he chose his path.
Mwaahahahahaha.
Paths can change :)
Post a Comment