No, I Don't Want to Smell It

 Why do kids ask you to smell things?  I think it is the strangest thing.  If you don’t know what I’m talking about, let me give you a few examples.

 

A child uses the restroom and comes to the table for supper, and I don’t think it’s unrealistic to ask, “Did you wash your hand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you use soap?”

 

“Yes.”  And then the child assumes that if I took the questioning past one question, I am doubtful of their answer, so they offer proof.  “Here, smell my hands!”

 

No.  No.  No.  I don’t care how much soap you actually used, I still have zero confidence that you washed your hands in a completely satisfactory manner, and I am not putting my nose that close to your hands.

 

Or take the example of the kid who got stickers that smelled like chocolate.  I guess companies make smelly stickers to help with marketing, and presumably it works, but have you actually smelled any of those scented stickers?  I think kids’ noses must be broken, because what the stickers are advertised to smell like, they don’t smell like.  I was visiting with a teacher the other day and her son was playing with stickers.  He came to tell me about his chocolate smelling stickers, and then, yes, he offered to let me smell one.

 

I gave his mom an unenthusiastic smile, and she gave me a look of condolence.  I think she understood the tendency for kids to have you smell things, too.  Well, you don’t just say ‘No,’ to a five year old you don’t know, so I bent and sniffed the chemically, half chocolate, half who-knows-what smelling sticker.  He generously gave it to me afterward, and I took it and…I think disposed of it in the trashcan.  I’m not exactly sure.

 

Perhaps the most humorous example of being offered something to smell happened with one of my tutoring students I once had.  She was a second grader and easily distracted, and one day she remembered she had chapstick in her backpack.  She got it out and applied it to her lips.

 

“I love chapstick that smells,” she said.  “This one smells like hot chocolate.”

 

“Really,” I said, smiling a little as I reflected that that would not be the type of chapstick I would like to apply.  I never liked the feeling of chocolate milk stuck to my lips after drinking hot cocoa.

 

“Yes!”  She capped the chapstick, stuck it back in her bag, zipped it up, and hopped to her feet.  “Want to smell it?” 

 

Understand – she wasn’t offering the chapstick.  She was offering her lips.

 

Dear lord, child, no, I don’t want to smell your lips.  I leaned back and protested.  “No!  I don’t!  I don’t want to stick my nose up by your mouth!”

 

“Oh!”  A grin broke out on her face.  “Oh!  Then it would look like we were kissing!”

 

“Get out your math paper!”

 

I know parents smell kids’ hands to check for washing and some parents smell kids’ breath to check if they brushed their teeth, but it doesn’t sound appealing to me.  Maybe I’ll change my tactics when I am a mom, but maybe I’ll keep believing them when they tell me something smells a particular way, because I don’t care if it’s your hands, a sticker, or your mouth – I don’t want to smell it.