The Taming of the Pew

My husband used to stink.  Mainly in the morning, but of course he was not totally devoid of body odor the rest of the day.  I used to joke that his stench woke up two minutes before him, so I always knew he was waking by the aroma of weasel ass that would waft from the bedroom, normally reaching my nostrils just as I was about to take a bite of my breakfast quiche, halting my fork in mid-air and causing my stomach to do a somersault.

The odor was just a part of our lives. Omnipresent, lingering, clinging to the bedsheets, waiting to leap out and take you by surprise like a gassy ninja.

A few weeks ago, I realized that the stench is gone. Gone.  Poof.  No more.

This is a very good thing, mind you.  It's just...where did it go?

Tommy said maybe it was the abscess, but I somehow doubt that abscess was sitting in his head for the past ten plus years. Was it the alcohol? At first I thought the abscence of beer in his diet had something to do with it, but the beer is back and the smell is still gone. Did the antibiotics kill all the stink-causing organisms on his body? Maybe. He's only been off the antibiotics a couple of days and the stink is still noticably absent. Could it be the tobacco? We'll see.

We'll see because my jackass of a husband has decided to start smoking again. He's out on the front porch stinking the place up even as I type.

He asked me not to write about his body odors any more, but I asked him not to start smoking or chewing again, so...well, you see the result.

I am anxiously awaiting the odor of unwashed primates to slowly return to my house. I figure it's only a matter of time.