Whenever my sister comes to visit, before I even let her step through the door, I insist on her completely honest opinion on the olfactory state of our household.
“Now tell me,” I say. “When you come in, take a whiff and tell me if it stinks or not.”
Despite the place looking like I couldn’t give two shakes about its appearance, the case is actually quite the opposite. I do care, and it usually doesn’t take too long to bring it back into gear. However, what’s not so easy, as many people realise, with kids, is hiding the fact that they tend, on occasion, to stink.
We’ve all walked into houses with nasty or heavenly scents to greet us. The good: coffee brewing, fresh roses or jonquils, and even the limey whiff of disinfectant is passable. The bad: three day old roast lamb remnants, and stinky sneakers left by the front door.
Then there’s the pooey nappies.
I swear, on the bad days, when I’ve changed a particularly nasty nappy, the house still reeks hours later. And it’s embarrassing. Which is why I hold-up my sister on the rare occasion she visits so I can stock take how well (or badly!) I am doing in keeping the air as neutral as possible.
Now, my sister normally grants my request with a degree of chagrin (And who can blame her? Who likes being asked if they can smell shit?) Luckily, her answer is usually lands on the side of blamelessness. Except for one time, she turned around to me and said, quietly, “Actually, you could do with an open window or two.”
Oh, the humanity!
Do you get paranoid about this as well? Please don’t tell me I’m the only one!
