Problematic

They are all like this.
Some are just cuter.

As I have said before, I am not sure which is more frustrating; dealing with a teenage boy now or when I was actually a teenager.  It really is a toss up.  On one hand, as an adult, I can more than win any battle of wits or words against my child.  On the other hand, I can't really use all my weapons as that would be mean and hurtful.  Unlike when I was a teenager, I can't just say "you're an a**hole" and give him the finger.  I mean, I could, but who would that really hurt?  I'm the one who will be paying for his therapy.


Thankfully, for the most part, Boy is not too troublesome.  He is mostly just baffling, as most male people are wont to be.  Our most current topic of confusion is smell.  Yes, smell.  As in "can't you smell that?"  I don't understand how if I can smell you from another floor in the house, you can't smell you.  At all.  Even a little.

And now I think I see
how the problem got started.

And let me just tell you something else, it's not just Boy with this problem.  But, we'll address that later on.  Right now we can discuss Boy and his inability to realize Axe body wash is an olfactory assault on all and is probably giving him brain damage.  Axe offers an array of scents, all of which are awful.  I honestly don't know what appeal it has to the teenage boy set.  They go from not wanting to shower at all (and not noticing their own BO) to believing you can never smell too "irresistible."  I am not sure where boys get this idea in that I am pretty sure no teenage girl ever said "You smell awesome!  I love when my eyes water like that."  There is no doubt in my mind that Axe (and other over-cologned products) are created by men/boys/male chimpanzees.


So, I recently solved the body wash issue by replacing it with something less fragrant.  I didn't mention I had switched it and no one said a word about it.  Problem solved, right?  Despite this, I kept smelling that cologne-y smell whenever Boy was nearby or if I entered an area he had just been.  Not sure what was going on, I checked the shower.  Nope, Axe body wash not in sight anywhere.  Then I saw the culprit.  Old Spice deodorant.  Apparently on one of Boy's first independent driving forays he went to Target, and being drunk with power, purchased said deodorant (and Lysol wipes - no I don't know why).  In several different, subtle ways I suggested to Boy that he stop wearing the Old Spice.  I used his allergies and skin sensitivity repeatedly.  To no avail.  Finally, I had to come right out and say the deodorant was giving me a headache and that people should not be able to smell your deodorant.  


Not one to reach the extra inch and pick up the unscented deodorant next to the smelly one, I smelled Boy leaving the next day for school and immediately went up to his bathroom and threw away (in a trashcan in the garage) the Old Spice.  He hasn't even said a word about it and I have no idea if he's even noticed.  Yet, another thing about males that makes one wonder.


Back to the other male who lives here with smell issues.  Thankfully, the Party does not have BO and he can occasionally tell when something smells.  The problem here is he likes when stuff has a smell.  When I hug Party, my nose is very near his armpit.  I don't want to smell powder fresh or rugged outdoors or woodsy manliness, or whatever other dumbass name they give these things.  I want to smell nothing.  That is why it's called DEodorant.  Not OTHERodorant.  Party also loves him some Vapo-Rub and Ben-Gay.  He has more call to use the Ben-Gay, so that's a more frequent discussion.  I can come in through the garage and smell that stuff two stories up.  He doesn't see what the problem is.  He says that it smells like a wint-o-green lifesaver and he knows I like wint-o-green lifesavers.  Yes, but not a pack of them shoved up my nose.

Teenage Girl Natural Habitat

Obviously, there are many, many, many more ways in which teenage boys, and male humans in general, are baffling and confusing.  Like I have the kind of time it would take to discuss all those ways.  We'd be here forever!  Also, let's not forget that I need to leave time to discuss my 14-year-old daughter.  She is a whole other ball of wax, albeit, a less smelly one.