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Pickled Kids Feet

My sweet “baby” boy is now a 4-year-old “little” boy. He is reciting his ABC’s and preparing for Transitional Kindergarten or “TK” or whatever that kindergarten is before the real kindergarten. My point is that he’s not an adorable butterball “ish” toddler anymore. His little body is growing everyday and it’s bittersweet.  His little feet have always been my favorite but now the bones are forming and the precious baby fat has left the building.  The smooshy squishy that I loved so much is all but gone. I still love those feet though…to an extent.

My son is only four, yet somehow his feet smell worse than mine. I am an adult.  I drink whiskey, and coffee, and sneak Kit Kats.  I hit puberty a long time ago.  My sweat glands are well seasoned and fragrant.  The bacteria feeding off of my feet are bonafide veterans.  My son however, only drinks water and eats fresh fruits and vegetables like a champ because I’m a health freak enthusiast. Shouldn’t I win the stench match?  Apparently not.  This odor, this complex aroma can only be described by two distinct items…pickles and vinegar.

Under other circumstances, I love pickles and vinegar.  Pickled jalepenos, pickled eggs, Carolina bbq sauce etc… The pungent acrid smell make my mouth water, but when we are talking about the phalanges of a child, pleasant and mouth-watering is replaced with tangy and venomous.

When socks and shoes are required for a daily outing…it’s nasally unfortunate.  Whether it’s a day of running errands or a day of die-hard play, those hooves have been marinating in a stifling humid sock and the end result is the same.  Serious foot funk.  Our house has started to absorb the pickled kid’s foot funk. Are we getting used to this?  My son puts his feet in my face and asks “what do dey mell like?” (yes, he has trouble with his S’s and Th’s) My answer is always “pickles and vinegar.” To which he laughs hysterically…every time.  I suppose that alone makes it cute. Cute and acceptable to his mother, his flesh and blood, but what about his future and the rest of society?  What about P.E class?  What about the high school locker room?  Holy crap! What about my house?  Am I to assume that this fragrance will become more robust and less tolerable with age?  I’m not sure that this level of potency can exist.

I will continue to stress the fact that my son is only four years old.  The powerful smelling trotters of a grown man, maybe worse, but still a very small child.  I will  continue to purchase my wide variety of pickled vegetables and vinegar based sauces because quite frankly they are delicious, but also because there may be a chance that I will grow to enjoy and appreciate the unique perfume of those itty bitty digits.  Until then I cannot stress enough; proper hygiene aka: daily episodes of vigorous foot scrubbing, and for all of our nostrils sakes, flip-flops whenever possible.

 

 

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About the author

Sara Pittman

Sara is from sunny San Diego CA. She is a wife, busy mother of 3 and amateur chef stumbling through organized chaos on a daily basis using sarcasm and humor to soften the blow...that's what she said. She will take any opportunity to demonstrate the running man in public and enjoys being a sarcastic smart ass.

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