WHAT is that SMELL?!?!

Before I get to this post I want to acknowledge Leftover Wednesday since I received an inquiry about it.  Leftover Wednesday was on holiday, as were we.  ;o)  We ate all “new” food yesterday (It is now 11:15pm on 7/5/12 and I have a feeling this will not get finished and posted until after midnight so I hope that does not confuse you as to which holiday I am referring to when you read this on 7/6/12 or later).  Leftover Wednesday will resume next week.  OK, now on with this post…

We had crab legs over the weekend and they were soooooo goooooood.  I love crabs!  Whole crabs, crab legs, crab cakes, crab salad, I’ll eat it all.  I feel sorry for people in land-locked states who don’t eat fresh seafood.  They don’t get to coastal states until they are adults and by then, very few of them will take a chance and try seafood.  So sad.  Let’s have a moment of silence for them…
Aaaaaand, we’re back!
Am I the only SAHP (stay at home parent) who feels obligated to be showered and/or dressed most days by the time the WOHP (work outside of the home parent) gets home?  No?  Just me?  Okaaaaaaay…Do you not feel that way because your spouse is so understanding and doesn’t give you the *Blink. Blink, blink.* when they get home, followed by the, “Um, have you showered today?” or  because you could not live with yourself unless you were showered and “public” ready in 60 minutes or less of leaving your bed so this is not an issue for you?


B has been a bad influence on me.  Since he took over dressing himself many years ago, he doesn’t want to do it unless hehas to.
Me: B, go get dressed.
B: Why? Are we going somewhere?
Me: Yes.
B: Are we leaving now?
And if I’m not ready to leave the house as soon as he gets dressed, he feels no need to get dressed.  And it’s not that he’s too lazy to get dressed, he’s just so comfy in his underwear or his PJs that he doesn’t want to get out of them until the last possible minute.  Also, I think it has something to do with the fact that getting “dressed” involves more layers which impede his, ahem, “access”.  I have never been a fan of the shower, myself, so I am never in any rush to do it.  I don’t mind getting wet and the feeling of “clean” is one of the best feelings in the world but it’s the drying off and the lotions and potions and combing afterwards that I hate.  Plus, it’s that time of year when you are a sweaty mess again by the time you finish drying off.  *shudders*  If I leave the bedroom without showering first, it gets put off until I have to go somewhere or 20 minutes before the hubs has to be home from work.  And that is where our story begins…
Monday afternoon at 4:10pm, I ran upstairs, showered, got dressed and looked “presentable” when the hubs walked in the door at 4:30pm.  The rest of the crab legs had to be eaten for dinner that night or thrown out, so I made the sacrifice to eat them.  When I bought them from the store, some of the ice they were sitting in went into the bag with them and had since melted.  The bag was sitting on a platter in the fridge.  Evidently, the melted ice had leaked out of the bag on to the platter and when I moved the platter to the counter, some of the water spilled on the hem of my shirt.  That frustrated me because I had just showered and put on a clean shirt!  I dabbed at the water but did not change right away because the crabs were already cooked so there was no contamination issue and by the time the shirt dried, I had forgotten all about it.  Because I have the worst memory ever.
The next morning we had to leave the house by 9am.  After my shower I was deciding on what shirt to wear and I thought, “That teal shirt looks really good on me.  And I only wore it for 4 hours yesterday in the house so no one saw me in it.  I can wear it again today.”  So I did.  (Remember, worst memory ever, so I did not remember the crab “juice”.  It had left no stain.)  We were out of the house, surrounded by heat and strong scents, for 4 hours.
Sometime after we got home, I went upstairs to use the restroom.  As I’m sitting there, without any distractions, I start todetect something amiss.  I can’t seem to put my finger on it…what the…what is that smell?!?!  Holy crap, it’s “seafoody” and it’s coming from down there.  Suddenly, my memory was flooded with all these jokes about “loose” girls in college that I never got – guys laughing and saying things like, “smells like fish but tastes like chicken!” (For those of you thinking, Hey!  I though you had “the worst memory ever,” I’m so proud you are actually keeping up!  You see, my long term memory in still in place; it’s the short-term memory that’s not working.)  I was seriously freaking out!  Why is this happening to me?  Is this a sign that “the change” is starting because Oprah never mentioned this symptom!
Then it dawned on me – wait, it’s not “fishy”…it’s….”crabby”.  Why would I smell like crabs?  You know, when I eat Super Golden Crisp cereal, my pee will smell like it…could it be the same way since I ate crabs last night…?  Then it hit me – CRAB JUICE SPILL ON SHIRT HEM! – and I started laughing at myself!  “Girrrrrl, you so crazy,” I said.  Phew!
I finished my business, washed my hands and, yup, you guessed it, completely forgot about the dried crab “juice” on my shirt’s hem by the time I walked out of the bathroom.  So the shirt stayed on the rest of the day.  SMH  (shaking my head)

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