Saturday, July 30, 2011


Once a week I take a moment to interrupt my simple life journey to share with you some extra bonus material to make you smile.  Enjoy!

"Janna, can you pick up some deodorant at the store for me?" my husband asked as I walked out the back door on my way to the market.  "Sure," I called back.  

I found myself at the local grocery store, standing in the deodorant aisle, opening several deodorant odor shields to sample their smells.  Which smell would entice me the most?  And then suddenly, as I sniffed one particular deodorant, the vault door of my mind's memory bank slowly creaked open.  Hmm, searching for men's deodorant, I have been here once before, a very, very long time ago....

I was in my teenage years, and I was playing basketball with a boy I was interested in, a little one on one, and when our bodies drew near one another after the ball, I smelled a smell, an aromatic smell from his arm pits.  It was captivating.  The smell of his deodorant was saying to me, “Come here, woman.  May my smell allure you to me.”  And I was obeying.  Because of it, I almost lost all conscious abilities to pull myself away from this delightful smelling game of basketball.  “Five out of six?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t too tired to continue playing.  Once our game was over, he walked away and I was broken from my trance.  It left me wondering, “Am I in love with this young man or am I in love with the smell he gives off?”  I wanted more…of his smell.

So I found myself in the deodorant aisle of the local drugstore.  Now which one was it?  It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but I had to find it.  Once I found it I would know if I was in love with him or the smell. 

I picked up one and popped off the lid.  No, too musty.  Then another.  No, too sporty.  Another.  Too spicy.  And then.  Ahhhhh!  When you read “Ahhhhh,” sing it in your mind and visualize one of the store lights beaming down upon it.  I stood there in the aisle of endless body odor solutions, my eyes closed, tightly gripping the deodorant stick and pushing it as close to my nostrils as I could get it without it actually touching my nose.  I breathed it in with one deep, swelling breathe, as if I were smelling a bouquet of roses.  Mmmm. Would it be weird if I licked it?  

It wasn’t the boy I was in love with. 

I walked up to the counter, lay it down before the cashier, and pulled out my method of payment.  The smell would be mine, literally.  I would wear it so that I could smell the fragrance anytime I wanted.  All I would have to do was lift my arms.  

Why would I even need or want a boyfriend?  I was kind of attracted to myself.

But do you know what I found out?  Men are supposed to wear men smells and women are supposed to wear women smells.  Because they entice each other.  It confuses the sexes when someone goes against the system set up. 

I was in high school when all this was going down, me wearing men deodorant and the such.  It was a hot summer day and I was at a get-together and a band was playing.  There I sat, my back propped against a wall, arms straight out resting upon my knees, ear plugs in, as I watched the band play.  Mmmm, I could smell the alluring scent from my pits.  Oh, it smelled so strong.  I remember briefly wondering to myself, If I can smell my deodorant, can anyone else?  No, my arm pits are so close to my head.  No one can smell them but me.  

I looked around at the party to notice how many dating prospects were at this gathering.  Hmm, anyone of interest?  Suddenly the boy I was sitting next to began to stir, and then I heard a sound that alerted me.  He was sniffing.   




Like a greyhound trying to find the source of a smell, his head started to turn my way.  He was sitting very close to me, so it was awkward when I turned my head only to find our faces within inches of one another.  We were looking into each other’s eyes, and I became concerned.  My eyeballs began to swell the size of two eggs.  His sniffer was about to find the source of the smell in question.  Can he smell me?  Then, his eyes shifted downward to my arm pit, and with one last sniff, he found the source.  He looked confused, and I knew what he was thinking; it was obvious: How am I smelling a man when I should be smelling a woman?  I quickly pulled my arms back down against my body to diminish any lingering aroma.  I turned my head and attempted to secretly blow the smell away while hiding behind a curtain of hair. 

What if he thinks I am a man? 

I don’t want to be known for “the woman who smells like a man.” 

What man is going to be attracted to a man smell anyway?  Get this stuff off of me!              

“Are you wearing men’s deodorant?” he finally broke the awkward silence between us.

“No, that would be weird,” I answered....

too quickly.

And that would be the last time I would wear men’s deodorant as my own. 

So here I was a good 15 years later, in the deodorant aisle once again, looking for a masking scent for my husband's body odor.  It was like deja vu.  I found "the one" again.  Was I tempted to quickly rub it across my pit?  Oh, you better believe I was, as much as I am tempted to buy myself a pair of orthopedic shoes.           

But with age comes wisdom.

I would wait until I got home and no one was looking. 

By the way, it doesn't taste as good as it smells.


  1. You are so hilarious! This entire story had me cracking up!! LOVED it!!

  2. So funny! I really did laugh out loud. :D

  3. Hi Janna,

    Just for you and Dan...

  4. My little sister used to do this all the time!
    Thats hilarioius!
    Love your blog!