You know, I always am amazed when someone sniffs a carton of bad milk, makes a horrible face, and says “Yuk. Smell this.” Even more amazingly, I actually stick my nose in the carton and take a big whiff. And, it's not just me. I think we're all intrigued by horrible odors...drawn to them, if you will.
So, if I'm right about that, many of you may well be enticed by my request. Sniff my hair please. That's not some kinky plea. I just want you to confirm that my hair really stinks. No, it's not a dirty, stinky smell. It's a clean, stinky smell. Perhaps I had better explain.
My wife loves creams and goos and lotions and elixirs and shampoos and all that stuff, and the more exotic, the better. She spent a two-week vacation at an Aveda store once. So, it was not surprising that when she returned from a recent business trip, she brought back a bunch of new goo from some sort of organic type goo store.
Included among her finds was a round cake of soap that's really shampoo that you smear all over your head and it lathers up. It lathers beautifully, but it stinks. I think it's called Mildew or maybe just Doo. But it smells like cigarette smoke.
She used it the other night and I thought I was going to have to evacuate my home. So, when she handed it to me, while I was in the shower this morning, I was somewhat hesitant to use it. In fact, I begged her not to make me use it.
“Use it,” she demanded. “It's good for dandruff.” As if I have dandruff.
“But it stinks,” I tell her meekly, in my typical meek manner.
“You can always rinse and use some conditioner,” she assured me.
So I used it. It was horrible. The steam from the hot water mixed with the stuff and sent a whiff of something terrible right up my nose. I was gagging so much that I could hardly reach for the conditioner. It's her conditioner and guess what it's called. Go ahead.
Tree Sap. That's right. Her conditioner is tree sap. So, I mix the tree sap in with the cake of horror and what do I get? Well, let me paint a word picture to help you get the essence of what I smell like. Picture, if you will, a lovely little cabin in the woods. Listen as the birds chirp a cheery good morning. See the little winding stone walkway leading up to the little cabin. Did you notice the butterflies around the lovely little flower garden?
Now, picture that beautiful little cabin going up in smoke. Whoof. In an instant, the log cabin is reduced to a smoldering heap. Imagine what that cabin smells like as you sift through the ruins, trying to find anything that might be salvaged.
Your lungs are filling up quickly with a putridness, right? Well, that's me. So, if you run in to me today, please come up and say, “hello.” And, please sniff my hair. Pretty yucky, huh?
