My daughter's feet reek. She keeps sitting on the arm of the couch where I am sitting and I can't think of anything else other than the smell.
When I was a child, I was the only person allowed to keep my shoes on in the house because of the smell of my feet. Even my socks seemed to be falling off and flopping in front of me like a pair of clown shoes. It's like they were desperately trying to escape from their prison. I also recall having quite a few food stains on my shirts on regular occasion which would make sense considering what a sloppy child I was.
My room left nothing to be desired either. I had no carpet on my floor but the stuffed toys I left on it meant I never had to touch the ground. I even remember laying on them to sleep when the mood would strike. I hardly ever cleaned up after myself. My mother often resorted to bribery to keep my room clean. Once my room stayed clean for an entire month for which I was rewarded with a stuffed teddy ironically.
I also recall some very interesting outfits I put together. One particular outfit that sticks out in my memory was a yellow Kiss t-shirt, blue and white checked 'square dance' skirt, bright green socks and adidas running shoes.
These are the things I have to remember when my daughter crawls up beside me and she could peel paint off a bus with her foot odour. Or when my girls dress themselves and I have to fight the urge to hustle them upstairs and get them changed. Or when Delaney uses her shirt to wipe her face.
I am sorry this is all I can write today. The smell in here is killing me!
What can I say...they ARE my kids!
No comments:
Post a Comment