Maybe that's all it is, because right now I keep smelling vomit and I'm pretty sure there hasn't been any of that around here in months, but yesterday Steve smelled like cigarettes for some reason. So I told him so.
"You smell like cigarettes."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"Fine, you smell like crack rocks."
Insert feigned indignation. "I do not. What do crack rocks even smell like? Do they have a smell? I do not!"
In the kitchen. "Girls, Daddy says I smell like crack rocks."
Freya, deadpan. "You do smell like crack rocks."
And she knows this how?
8 comments:
After everything you've written about Freya, nothing would suprise me about her. Um, not that I think she smokes crack, just that I suspect that after you go to sleep at night she's got this second life where she's a superhero/stand-up comedian/romance novelist/pirate.
Ha! Freya kills me! That is too funny.
Hmm, heightened olfactory senses... perhaps preggers?
I might have to go with She... pregnant?
Hilarious! That's awesome! Sounds like some of the silly commentary between Jeremy and I. And Freya is so bright and witty!
And the first thing I thought was "she's pregnant" followed by an "Nahhhhh. Graduate school = birth control."
Did I say commentary? Durr. I meant dialogue. I should probably go to bed before I say something else that makes it hard to believe I have a bachelors IN ENGLISH!
Classic. And crack rocks do have a smell - this from a woman who's husband is surrounded by crack smokers every day.
And you are SO NOT pregnant. Right?
I'm going to look like a total idiot here, but after my trip to the country, the bumpkin is coming out in me.
What the heck are crack rocks?
Please enlighten me. I feel totally stupid and hick-ish.
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