The Smell Test

I'm not quite sure how to bring this up, teenagers, so I'll just dive right into it: Two things you need to know.

1. I love you dearly.  You are my beloved offspring. I would do anything for you. Your health and happiness are constantly on my mind, and even when you finally fledge the nest and have to make your own dentist appointments and buy your own Doritos, I will still worry about you and show you my unending love through text message nagging to get enough sleep and be sure to eat a good, healthy breakfast before starting your day.

2.  You are often quite odiferous.

The other day, I asked the Son of Never Stops Eating if he wanted to go somewhere with me.  He did.  As he walked by me to get in the car, I caught an unmistakable whiff of eau de adolescent. I glared at him. What? He said, staring at me.

Me: When was the last time you brushed your hair?
Son: I don't know. Maybe yesterday.
Me: When was the last time you brushed your teeth?
Son: Mom! My teeth are fine! Why are you asking these questions?
Me: When was the last time you used deodorant?
Son:  Mom! Deodorant is for school! This is summer!

Among my favorite smells are fresh-baked apple pie, the cool spring breeze on a sunny afternoon, the faint salty smell of the ocean as you approach the beach on summer vacation, and freshly bathed baby.  I remember the blissful wonder of rocking my children in the evening, breathing in that faintly lavender clean baby smell as they slept peacefully in my arms. 

Many years later, I went to sixth grade orientation.  The P.E. teachers begged the parents of the incoming middle schoolers to please, please, PLEASE make sure your kids use deodorant.  You have no idea what it's like in here when there are sixty sixth graders running around.  Have mercy on us.

Even after an entire summer, the gym still smelled faintly like sweat and moldy wet socks.  I could sympathize with their pleas.

In other words,welcome to adolescence, Mom and Dad. Whatever you do, don't forget to take that P.E. uniform out of the backpack on Friday evening, or else.  Trust me on this one; that was a lesson learned the hard way. 

Another lesson learned the hard way- any time your teenager returns from sleepaway camp or a mission trip, or any time that they are away from home more than 48 hours, open the bag of dirty clothes outside.  At least half of the items will be sopping wet, even if they were in a desert.  I don't know why that is, it just is. 

Parents of babies and toddlers might talk about daycare, or co-sleeping vs. cribs, or when to start solids foods.  Parents of grade schoolers might talk about selling Girl Scout cookies, who has the best prices on school supplies, or whether or not to sign their kids up for soccer.  Parents of teenagers talk about how much their auto insurance went up when they added a teen driver, how much food their teenagers eat, compare notes on who is currently getting the most teenager 'tude, and just how to mitigate for that adolescent odor.  Mention it on Facebook, and watch the comments roll in.  These are the common bonds that connect us all.

I'm not sure what the answer is- I've heard peer pressure, more frequent showering, buying lovely (or manly, depending on the adolescent in question) scented products and leaving them in the shower as a hint, and not to worry about it because the problem will resolve on its own once the teenager in question acquires a romantic interest, or that they'll eventually move out, and then you can have the hazmat crew in to fumigate.

I also know this- that after a day on the trails on almost any day between April and October, I probably don't smell like a rose myself.  As a teenager, I spent considerable time around horses.  The Grandma of No finally made it clear that after a day at the stables during the summer, I smelled like equine manure (literally) and to change in the garage.  So I can relate.  I feel your pain. 

But please, even though I love you and I would do anything for you- deodorant is for every day.  Not just school days.