heart to heart blog

I’ve got a question for you: what happened to turn my son from a soiled, smelly and satisfied-with-it sixth grader into a clean, aromatically aware thirteen year-old in a matter of months?

Could it be:
a) The fine example of immaculate personal hygiene set by his well-groomed paternal parent?
b) An overzealous attempt to draw fewer flies?
c) An early teenage attempt to melt adult eyeballs?

Or

d) Junior high, hormones and girls (not necessarily in that order)?

The boy has discovered Axe. He finds it fragrant.  All the boys must find it so.  I’ve compared notes with other dads I know and this situation seems to be reaching epidemic proportions. Just ask any of your watery-eyed friends with a junior high boy why their eyes are on fire. I bet they’ll sniffle a similar story.  Some of the boys even carry their spray cans to school “just in case.” Just in case what? In case there’s an immediate need to eradicate innocent olfactory nerves ?

Unfortunately, Gus’ vocabulary doesn’t include the word “moderation.” He bathes in Axe. He slathers it and sprays it. He’s certain it makes him smell good. So his 13 year-old logic says the more he uses, the better he smells. What he doesn’t realize is the more he uses, the better chance he has of peeling paint off of the walls.
I’m sure in his pubescent exuberance he thinks it helps attract girls (now that he’s in junior high, he’s going to dances and noticing girls) or maybe he just thinks it kills cooties.

I don’t know exactly WHAT he’s thinking, all I know is my sinuses instantly clog when I walk in the house (an act of self preservation on their part, no doubt), my wife has upped her dosage of allergy medicine and the cat has contracted what seems to be either a two-pack-a-day habit or a permanent hairball.

I’ve been trying to talk Gus into using smaller doses and I may have finally made some headway.
The other night, he said, “I think 9 out of 10 girls are allergic to the Axe.”
“Why’s that?” I wheezed.
“Because, like, nine of them will walk away from me because they start sneezing.”
“Yeah but why’s the other one walk away?” I snorted.
“Oh, she just she doesn’t like me to begin with,” he replied.
So I think he’s starting to catch on.

Perhaps that answers my question. It’s got to be letter “d”…right?( I know it certainly couldn’t be letter “a”).

Suppose my next question is: What else do I need to know about these 9 or 10 girls exactly?

Jon writes our “When a Toddler Turns Teen” posts here on the blog because believe it or not, your adorable bundle of joy will grow up…