Come on, how can I help but laugh when Andrew and I are collecting out dirty clothes so we can do laundry and he says, 'What's this stuff on my underpants?'
But over my giggles he protested, 'It's not mine! It smells pink.'
'Really,' I said. I seem to be using my dubious tone of voice a lot more the past couple of weeks than I did previously. 'Does that mean you're blaming it on me?'
'Yes! It's pink.'
'How can something smell pink?' I wanted to know.
'It smells like a woman thing... Here,' he added, showing me the article of clothing in question, 'doesn't that smell like woman?'
I smelled it. 'It smells like my deodorant, actually.' It looked like it, too, white and flaky. I was about to explain that it wouldn't surprise me to find that this is the case, as a big chunk of it had inexplicably detached and flown everywhere when I took the lid off one day, the way it might when you reach the end of the container, but this one's almost new, so I can't explain its lack of cohesion. Anyway, it got all over the floor in Andrew's room, so I'm not surprised his clothes got tainted.
'Exactly!'
I realised he'd said something atrocious that I thus had to argue with. 'Deodorant is not a "woman's thing"!'
'Yes it is!' he insisted. 'Men only wear deodorant if a woman makes them.'
That made me laugh.
But over my giggles he protested, 'It's not mine! It smells pink.'
'Really,' I said. I seem to be using my dubious tone of voice a lot more the past couple of weeks than I did previously. 'Does that mean you're blaming it on me?'
'Yes! It's pink.'
'How can something smell pink?' I wanted to know.
'It smells like a woman thing... Here,' he added, showing me the article of clothing in question, 'doesn't that smell like woman?'
I smelled it. 'It smells like my deodorant, actually.' It looked like it, too, white and flaky. I was about to explain that it wouldn't surprise me to find that this is the case, as a big chunk of it had inexplicably detached and flown everywhere when I took the lid off one day, the way it might when you reach the end of the container, but this one's almost new, so I can't explain its lack of cohesion. Anyway, it got all over the floor in Andrew's room, so I'm not surprised his clothes got tainted.
'Exactly!'
I realised he'd said something atrocious that I thus had to argue with. 'Deodorant is not a "woman's thing"!'
'Yes it is!' he insisted. 'Men only wear deodorant if a woman makes them.'
That made me laugh.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-02 10:05 am (UTC)No woman has ever needed to make me wear deodorant. I don't like to smell me without it.
Actually, that's not a conclusive argument; there are two possibilities that would fulfill it: either he's wrong, or I'm not a man.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-02 10:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-02 10:20 am (UTC)Bah!
Date: 2004-07-02 10:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-02 11:59 am (UTC)And yeah, he DOES need it. He says, "I don't smell." That's because he's fried the sensors in his nose with his excessive gas.
And he wonders why I never want to get my freak on...
(no subject)
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