I’m in the middle of making pureed zucchini for the baby when I leave the kitchen for something. Upon returning I notice my wife waiting with the baby in her arms and a concerned look on her face.
“Come here. Does her head smell like B.O. to you?”
My first thought was, “How is that possible?” “Has she pretended to be a cat and rubbed up against someone or something stinky?” “Does our baby have a rare disease in which her body odors are emitted from her head?” “How do we prepare her for nicknames like ‘Armpit Head’ and B.O.-livia’?”
Then I remember that we had just come back from a walk in the near 90 degree weather here in Brooklyn. The baby was hungry, so my wife decided to feed her in bed in the hopes that a nap might follow afterwards. My wife has perfected the bed feeding technique, which allows her to lay sideways in bed with her arm up over the baby. This particular feeding, however, my wife’s armpit was crying some really stinky tears. I leaned in, gave her hair a good sniff, and was instantly smacked in the face with my wife’s B.O. My wife shrieked, and ran off for a wash cloth to try and wipe the offending odor out of our child’s hair.
Afterwards, my wife sat the baby down to have some rice cereal (she’s a hungry little girl). I leaned in and gave the baby a kiss on the head, noting out loud that her hair had regained its normal fresh smell. My wife sighed and said:
“We don’t want you to have B.O. head. That’s no way to start out life!”