The weather here in Atlanta has been glorious.
We have spent the late afternoons outside playing bubbles, chalking up our driveway, and racing up and down the hill next to our house.
The Yoys, who sweat just thinking of exercise, come inside at dinner time with an evenly distributed sheen. Their hair looks freshly showered.
I noticed the other day that their wing of the upstairs is starting to smell very similar to the boys' side of my Broward Hall dorm floor.
I instantly flash back to 1994. I walk from the Tresor scented girls' side and cross over to the hot, musty, closer-to-campus boys' side of my dorm. I try and hold my breath until I reach the stairwell. Yes, the unairconditioned stairwell is an improvement.
Boys smell. I knew this. I guess I just forgot. Or maybe just thought I'd still have a few more years of that sweet baby smell.
It is gone.
In its place is a hot sweat sock odor.
I've got all the windows open, fans on, and I'm Febreezing the sh*t out of this place.
I will prevail!