Before I had a child I thought the most embarrassing part of parenthood was the slow slide towards smelliness. And not just any smelliness. That smell smelliness. You know, the smell of a kiddy play corner in the doctors office. Or the pull-down changing table in a public restroom. Or your friends house when you go over and it looks like a spit-covered fisher price catalog exploded in their living room. It smells slightly like babies, but also slightly dirty. And it's very off-putting.
This week I have come closer to this olfactory nightmare. Me, the baby, and everything in our house have an oder. A slightly unpleasant oder. It's dried milk.
Oh I have excuses. It's not so bad because it's human milk. It's organic and natural. It's the beautiful bounty of my womanhood...
It's no use. I smell like the dairy farmer mated with the cow, and I know it. In any other circumstance a person would change a shirt covered in wet milk. I'm just too lazy.
The good news is that the real reason doctors corner and messy baby houses smell bad is not the poop or the milk, it's all that hard plastic emitting vapors. So maybe there is hope for us after all.