smelly pits of doom

I'm sitting on the floor, playing Giant Dr. Mario on our new giant tv, having finally wrestled it away from the kids. They've all disappeared except Tennyson, who is on the love seat playing on his DS. 

Out of nowhere he sniffs, and announces in an amused seven-year-old way, "my armpits are smelly." He giggles. 

"Really?"

"Yeah." More giggles. Boys are awesome. 

I roll my eyes. "Do you want to shower?"

"Yeah." He continues playing his game. 

"Well go!" I exclaim. 

He tosses his DS to the side. "Finally!" he shouts, before running off to the bathroom. 

Because, you know, we stand in the way of his hygiene. 


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