How I know my sense of smell is as good as its ever been

According to The Mayo Clinic’s website, our olfactory function declines as we age. The site further states that not only do we lose our sense of smell, we lose our ability to discriminate between smells. It’s called olfactory impairment.

I beg to differ. I can be walking to the mailbox right in front of my house and literally be overtaken by an uncontrollable urge for a Portillo’s burger and fries. I’ve never confused that aroma with, say, the smell of my husband’s clothing hanging innocently in the closet.

Before I go any further, I’d like to mention that several people have approached me to ask if I feel as though I’m just slightly hard on my poor maligned husband. One neighbor even stopped by for a visual verification as to the state of my husband’s car, as I’d previously written about this topic. We walked out to the garage together, where I opened the back door of the car and several tennis rackets, a frozen stiff athletic piece of apparel, and a Happy Meal container tumbled out.

As Drew Peterson’s lawyer said, I rest my case.

Which brings me to the sniff test, a test that will surely refute anything The Mayo Clinic has to say about our olfactory impairment.
Several female friends have confided to me that they perform the sniff test, and it goes something like this. After a certain male person with whom we have entered into a legal partnership changes into his nighttime clothing, whatever that might look like, and is comfortably settled into his chair watching “Holmes on Homes,” we stretch, yawn, and announce we’re also going to get ready for bed. And then we head straight for that master bedroom closet.

Pulte, obviously having done their marketing among women, very smartly placed the master bedroom and its closet on the other side of the house. Sleuthing and sniffing virtually go undetected, which, I believe, makes for a harmonious marriage to say nothing of increased home sales.
I have no issue with wearing clothing twice in one week provided the apparel in question is clean and fragrant. However, more often than not, this is not the case. Let’s be honest, we’re human, and some more than others.

When the nose is placed into a certain area of the shirt and it does not detect Tide’s Fresh Green Mountain scent, the item must be placed in the laundry hamper. And just as a jar of mayonnaise with a butter knife stuck in it cannot be placed on the dining table and considered a serving dish, on this there can be no debate.

And so when I hear, “Honey, where’s my red shirt, the one I wore yesterday?” I pretend that I can’t hear the question, because I’m watching “Love It or List It” and I’m way on the other side of the house. I just love this floor plan.

We’ve been in our house five years, and I’m on my second washer and dryer. I feel guilty about the added expense until I remember that biblical phrase “a virtuous woman is a price far beyond rubies.”

And appliances.

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