Vindication

I did it.

I got rid of the stinky bum soap.

I drove Hot Mom to the "Store that Shall Not Be Named" on our date to get something else and guess what?

The conversation with the salesgirl went something like this:

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for something that doesn't smell like butt."

"Luckily, sir, we have a lot of somethings that don't smell like that."

"Do you? Do you really? Cause the last thing we bought in here smelled like butt."

"Did you smell it before you bought it?"

"Ummmmmmm."

I look at Hot Mom who is sheepishly cowered in the corner. I guessed not.

"What kind did you buy the last time?"

"Herb garden."

"Herb garden?"

"Yeah, and it smells like butt." The salesgirl was clearly amused with my use of the word butt so I continued to employ it like I was a third grader.

"Yeah, it didn't sell very well and I think they discontinued it. It didn't smell very good at all."

"It smelled like butt."

"Yes, sir, you've made that perfectly clear."

"Well, it looks like your wife has made a few very good selections this time. You've got Tahitian Red Raspberry, Biker Bar at Midnight, and Warm Vanilla Marshmallow Smores with Hershey's Syrup and a Hint of Pistachio. I hope your hands will no longer smell like...well..."

"A butt?"

"Yeah, that."