The Spare to the Throne is a sniffer. He has, probably since birth, always smelled everything he comes in contact with, the first time he comes into contact with it. Food, shoes, clothes, shampoo, whatever. He always smells it. He used to come to me with his beloved blanket and say "wow, Mommy, my blanket smells SO good, doesn't it?" He'd hand it to me so that I could take a deep whiff.
This may explain why now, I have so little sense of smell. That thing was WICKED bad in its odiferous-ness, but it was hard to get away from him long enough to wash it. OK, so yeah, I had a rather co-dependent thing with my blanket when I was little, and maybe, just MAYBE I sucked my thumb till I was double digits, but yeah......I don't think my blanket smelled that bad.
So Jim made dinner one night a couple of weeks ago, and remarked "you know what Seth's gonna do when he sees this, right? He's gonna smell it." I knew he was right -- I can't remember what he had cooked, but it wasn't familiar to Seth, so of course yes, he picked up the plate and took a big whiff. Maybe the boy is part dog, or wolf, or cat or something. It's one of his little food quirks, like the fact that he doesn't like his food touching, or he eats only one food at a time on his plate. No biggie, just quirks.
He also loves shrimp. So Jim and I went to the commissary, and I decided I needed to get him these:
I mean, he loves shrimp after all. And he has always been a grazer. I figured oh well, let's see what he does with these. Well let me tell you, it was hysterical.
He looked at them quizzically and read the package. He opened it up and did his normal thing: sticking his nose into the bag and taking a big whiff. It was at this point that the entire bag almost went flying, because he not only smells things, he has a super SENSITIVE nose, so when that smell hit him, it almost knocked him down. "OH MY GOD," he said, "that is AWFUL." I mean, how can a strong smell of shrimp, enclosed in plastic for however many weeks, be bad, right? Thomas told him he was being a wimp, grabbed the bag, and promptly almost lost his lunch right in front of me. He suggested that perhaps they didn't taste as bad as they smelled. Seth decided to give it a try.
He took a bite. Paused. Chewed thoughtfully, appearing to be deep in thought, then announced "NOPE, they are just as bad tasting." I'm pretty sure he spit it out. And maybe even gargled a bit and spit into the kitchen sink. Then he decided that maybe it would be better, the more you ate. Nope. Same thing. He decided to clip 'em shut and save 'em for later. As in, two or three weeks later, when he suddenly decided to open them up and maybe, just maybe, try 'em again. And what does he do? Sticks his head in the bag again, recoiled, and tossed 'em straight into the trash. Trash which then had to be taken outside because the smell was defiling Jim's beloved pantry.
Moral of the story? Everyone has their limits. And for some people, that limit is Shrimp Chips.