I bought a new lotion the other day. I really don't like the smell it has - and it's not supposed to have a smell. Apparently I'm not the only one who doesn't like the non-smell smell.
This weekend Little Princess came for one of her twice-monthly overnight visits. She and I and Auntie (aka: Slightly-British Daughter) curled up on Slightly-Brits bed, as we do each night that L.P. is here.
Slightly Brit reads to us. We get to hear Paddington, Winnie-the-Pooh, Madeline, Cordoroy, Wind in the Willows and lots of others (sometimes ad nauseam if L.P. has trouble getting to sleep). Often I fall asleep before L.P.
This particular night L.P. leaned into me to snuggle - pulled away - and said very matter-of-factly: "Gammie, (very slight pause) you smell like poop."
"Thank-you." I retorted. Come-backs are not my specialty - particularly when I'm in a hypnotic Paddington-induced state.
"No, really!" L.P. insisted. "Auntie, what does she smell like? Smell her!"
I was totally awake by this time: "I do not!!"
"YES you do!!! Smell yourself!"
I know two things: 1) I have a bottle of lotion I need to get rid of. I'm not so happy about that. 2) This kid's got khutzpa! That I love!! I don't think we have to worry too much about her falling unnoticed between any cracks.
