On the way to school this morning, we were stopped at a traffic light when a rather strong smell seeped into the car from outside.
Ryan and I spoke at exactly the same moment…
Me: I smell poo.
Ry: I smell chicken.
We looked at each other and burst out laughing. It was one of those great, silly, unexpected laughs, too, where you can’t stop, and you can’t breathe, and the tears are streaming down your face. I finally calmed down enough to speak (and drive) again.
Me: I’m not sure what that says about my cooking!
Ry: What do you mean?
Me: Well, if the smell I equate to poo is the smell you equate to chicken, what does that say about the chicken you’ve been eating?!
Ry: I think it says we should eat out more!