Phwoar!!!

Today, I smelled of soup. (Yes, I said ‘soup’. As in Campbell’s. Not ‘soap’ as in Lye.)

I woke up, got in the shower, turned on the hot water and low-n-behold the stench that rose from the steam was enough to make me sick. But the smell was coming from moi. Little ol’ moi.

Back-story:

My wife is one of the best cooks I have ever known. She can roast a chicken, steam up some clams, grill up a steak like nobody’s business but she likes to read recipe books.

That’s fine.

But she also likes to experiment and when she does I’d have to say she has a solid 99 to 1 ratio of good experiments to bad.

Her soup was no exception.

It was awesome.

The first time she made it (it’s a carrot/lentil/spring onion/grated cheese on top type concoction) I loved the taste but since she didn’t blend it up it sort of looked like- and had the texture of- baby shit (not that I know first hand what that is like–we don’t have kids.). I finished the whole bowl but I did have to turn the lights off and stare at the TV while I ate (really).

I told her how I felt about it and she agreed. But then… she made it again last night.

Lucky for me and my optics (that’s ‘eyeballs’ people) in the time since she last made it my in-laws bought us one of those hand held blender dealy-boppers that liquefy granite in an instant.

Voila! The perfect tasting soup in a handy, blended-up form. Gollllllldang, was it tasty!

But like I said, I stunk all day.

Was it the spring onion, the extra mature cheddar, the failure of my liver to sieve out offensive odors or was it something more sinister that my wife threw into the pot and didn’t tell me about? I don’t know.

Either way, I suppose I owe my work colleagues an apology for smelling the way I did today.

(Naw.)

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4 Comments

  1. Wow. Soup. I’d love to smell of soup in the morning. A hot shower does indeed arouse a certain aroma from my hunky body from time to time, but inexplicably it’s usually garlic. Ug.

    *j*

  2. The smell of soup in the morning is somewhat more desirable than the smell of napalm… but I may be wrong.

  3. I’d prefer the smell of soup to the smell of farts anyday.

    Unless of course your farts smelled like soup.

  4. I will neither confirm nor deny the odor.


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