Let’s get personal for a second. There are a couple hygiene related things I’m always paranoid about: boogers in my nose and bad breath. I carry a compact mirror with me everywhere and obsessively check my nose before I engage with another human being. There’s nothing more distracting than trying to talk to someone when they have a booger fluttering as they breathe in and out. The humane thing to do is tell that person they have a bat in their cave but how often do you walk away from a convo only to realize you had a booger in your nose the whole time? That’s why I carry a compact with me. I trust no one. People get weird about boogers, but not me. I’ll tell you because I’m not an asshole.

Now telling someone they have bad breath is a little more sensitive of a topic so don’t expect me to be as straightforward with you there. Although I may offer you something to freshen it because I would want someone to do the same for me. The overarching message here is let’s just all help each other a little more, eh?  The medication I’m on gives me major cotton mouth which is partially why I constantly think my breath smells. The hubs and my truth-telling bestie have both assured me I do not have halitosis like I think I do. My 3.5 year old on the other hand, seems to strongly disagree with them.

We were headed up to the cabin a couple weekends ago and I was smooshed between the two boys in the backseat for the 2 hour car ride. About 45 minutes in I could sense the freshness of the toothpaste had long worn off and the stale coffee taste was lingering a little, but it would require way too much work to reach for gum out of my purse. We made a pit stop and once everyone exited I leaned over to Carter  to ask him one more time if he was sure he did not need to go to the bathroom. He looked at me with his nose turned up waved his hands in front of my face and yelled, “MOMMY, YOU SMELL SISGUSTING!” Well, that didn’t answer my question but it did confirm my breath was as bad as I suspected. Thank you for your honesty, Son, but the delivery could use some work.

Fast forward a couple days when we were cuddled up in bed and once again Carter gives me the same look, sits up straight and says, “MOMMY, YOU SMELL SISGUSTING! GET OUT OF HERE WITH THAT YUCKY!” I apologized for not brushing my teeth after dinner and got up to go take care of it. He followed me into the bathroom and stood there berating me as I brushed: “I don’t want that food in your belly to get on me and make me smell yucky. It’s sisgusting!” First of all, it’s pronounced disgusting with a d, not an s. Second of all, that’s not even possible so don’t be a dick.

He’s got it in his head now that mommy smells so if it’s not my breath it’s my shirt that’s yucky, or the blanket I’m wrapped in, or my hands, or the black cloud of filth that apparently follows me everywhere because I’m self-employed and have completely let myself go.

You gotta love kids for keeping us honest. Cheers to living my best smelly life, Friends!

XO,

Amy