We’re laying in bed and as I reach over to click off the light, I get a whiff. In the dark, I give my armpit a sniff.
"Oh my God. I think I have BO."
On a mission to rid our family of metals, I’ve switched to a "natural deodorant," one that doesn’t contain aluminum.
"Yeah, that new deodorant isn’t really making the 24 hour mark."
What? Excuse me?
Sitting up, I flick on the light.
"Are you saying I stink?"
Todd has never said anything like that to me before. Frankly, no one has ever told me I stink, at least not in a literal sense.
"I’m just saying, there’s been a couple of times....."
"Oh my God! I can’t believe you just said that?"
"What? You don’t want to know?"
"Would you prefer I smell like a French whore?"
Apologies to the French. Apologies to the whores.
"Could we get a happy medium?" He laughs.
I flick off the light. Do I say anything about the stench he leaves in the bathroom everyday? Well, yeah, I guess I do. His two dainty squirts of air freshener do nothing to cover it up. You gotta lay on that nozzle to get rid of man-stink like that, baby.
Tired, I sigh. We’ve been married eight years. We’ve had a good run, but I guess the honeymoon's over.