warning: no yucky air

i just want to take this opportunity to warn any of you that have thought you might come over and visit sometime. if you are one of my long distance readers, and were thinking about a nice stay in beautiful new jersey, or if you are local and just wanted to stop by, consider yourself warned: jack is very sensitive to bad breath.

i first noticed his breath sensitivity when i would have to go into his room at night because he wasn't falling asleep. i would put him to bed, then go get a snack. soon, though, he would be yelling for something, basically just avoiding sleep, and when i would go on to him, he would be like a bloodhound on a missing persons' case. he would go from yelling out in the dark, "i need you daddy!" in one instant to smartly saying, "you smell like potato chips. fire chips." in the next (fire chips are what jack calls bar-b-que chips, as in, "fire chips are yucky."). at this point i just figured he was hungry for something other than fruit snacks and cheddar gold fish and his nose was just picking up on it. but then there were more signs.

like when the time that shannon had morning breath and picked him up because he was crying and only a moment later he declared, "it stinks up here." (side note - this morning, lying in bed with him watching cartoons, he told me that my breath smelled like cookies. i had not had cookies, or anything else for that matter, to eat. so, i'm feeling pretty good about my morning breath right now).

but the best moment was when we found him in the bathroom, brushing his own teeth. thinking this a bit unusual, we queried him about the reasoning for this sudden burst of dental hygiene. his response? "my air was yucky."

i love that. my air was yucky. my air was yucky, so i decided to brush my teeth. now this is a kid who clearly doesn't like bad breath. i feel bad for him because it is inevitable that his 6th grade math teacher will be a middle-aged woman who smokes and drinks coffee right before class and then comes to his desk to look at his work and gets right down by his face before she breathily utters something about taking his time and checking his work. only he won't hear her. he'll be doing everything in his power not to go into culvusions or wretch all over his tiny desk.

and so, if you come to our house in new jersey, please bring your toothbrush (a sam's club sized bottle of scope wouldn't hurt, either), because my son (but not me) suffers from bad breath sensitivity syndrome (bbss), and will most likely let you know about the quality of your air. you've been warned.

greg.