What is it with kids and their hygiene? Or should I say, their lack of hygiene.
The Schmitty kids would love nothing more than to roll around on the ground and take a mud bath.
But get them to actually wash their hands, you know with some soap and water? Well, you would think I was asking them to shove their hands into acid flowing from the faucet.
And why is it that I have to send them back to brush their teeth a second time?
They think that rinsing off their toothbrushes will trick me into thinking they actually brushed.
T. and R. have quite the morning breath. One whiff is enough to kill a small elephant. Instantly. Brushing for them is essential for my well being.
Before school in the mornings, the two of them will run upstairs to the bathroom, fiddle around for about a minute, turn on and off the water, and run back down.
"Did you brush your teeth?" I ask.
"Yes." They answer.
"Let me smell your breath."
I don't even have to get close to them. I just look for the green fog to float from their mouths.
"Go do it again. And this time use toothpaste!"
And the nastiness doesn't end with them.
W., my oldest, is quickly approaching puberty. For a boy, that means everything starts to smell.
Though he doesn't seem to be getting sweaty pits yet, I did buy him some deodorant to use. I want him to get into the habit of using it daily. There's nothing wrong with preventative measures, I say.
Plus, Mama's got a strong sense of smell and there's no need for any surprise nasal attacks.
I've had enough of those already. Can you say, "HOLY LORD SON, THROW THOSE SHOES OUTSIDE!!" Actually throwing them in the garbage might be a better option, though I think the can might throw them back up.
My son also has a problem with his hair. I remember when my kids were little I loved to smell their heads. You know, that baby smell? The just washed hair. The baby shampoo. So sweet.
Now? The thought alone brings me to dry heaves.
I don't know what it is, I assume his head sweats, but really, it's bad. Even after coming out of the shower, there is a hint of it, if you smell closely enough. I was constantly accusing him of not using shampoo, until I washed it myself. I sniffed, and yup, there it was.
The teen years are only yet getting started here. I've got another boy up and coming; so the stank of male adolescence will be lingering for a while.
In the meantime I will be lighting scented candles and spraying Febreeze.
'Cause the Schmitty house? Well, it's smelling quite schmitty.