When one of my kids was a toddler, she struggled with syntax.
Yea, only one of them. The other five were perfectly, grammatically correct from birth.
She’d crinkle up her little toddler nose, sniff as loudly as a two year old could sniff with boogies plugging her little air passages, and ask, “What me do I smell?”
Of course, for the past three decades, my hubby and I have rarely asked each other, “Hey, what’s that smell?” like normal people. We always wrinkle up our growing adult noses and ask, “What me do I smell?”
One day, me smelled something awful.
Being an experienced mother, I quickly narrowed it down to new plastic, even though I was at the end of the hallway and had only sniffed the air a few times. Yea, moms have amazing skills, don’t they?
Also, being an experienced mother, I was pretty sure I sniffed the danger from a distance faster than the plastic-burning culprit who had not yet asked themselves the question of the year, “What me do I smell?”
Oh, ya’ wanna’ know how come I knew it was new plastic? Simple deduction. The newer the item, the more likely it will be broken, dropped, cracked or burned alive.
I have other powers of deduction that would make Sherlock proud. If the smell occurs late in the evening, I know something fell onto the heating element in the dishwasher ‘cuz that’s when we run the dishwasher. If this smell occurs during the day, I know something fell onto the burner. The one of the four that is on, of course. Plastic never touches cold burners. That rule just goes without saying.
However, since I have mostly adult children living in my home, I left the smell to the culprit. Several moments after me smelled something , me heard exclamations from the kitchen and me knew danger had finally been spotted.
When the kids were younger, they left notes that said things like, “You’re the best Mom in the whole wide world!”
Nowadays, notes have to do with the grocery list, errands and confessions.
Like this note.
Like the splashes? Hmmm….do ya’ think it was another child using another burner?
Yer’ so right!
I also woke up to this.
In case you need to see that up close, here it is.
The offending adult child graciously offered to clean it up, because my kids are perfect like that, but I stopped this person. I needed pictures. After all, I have full blogging rights, right?
Me warned them in my very first blog.
Jealous you don’t have kids that cook for you?
You should be.
This is what has happened to
Not jealous yet?
Now you will be. ‘Cuz look what all that practice produced.
You should be jealous. Now, let your kids in the kitchen and burn something.
Just remember these magic words, “What me do I smell?”