My mom loves the smell of gasoline. A lot of people do actually, but when I’m around it, I gag and hold my breath and sound like Chuckie from Rugrats while I whine until we escape the vapors that are terrorizing my nose.
Maybe the nose’s relationship with the smell of gasoline is similar to the tongue’s relationship with cilantro in that it’s a gene and you either have it or you don’t.
Though I can’t help myself from shouting “EW GROSS YOU LIKE GAS?” at the nasal marvel, I’ve realized that every one of us has a “weird thing” — sort of like Miranda Hobbes with her trashy magazines per Leandra’s call out earlier this week. Regarding my mom, that smell, and Miranda’s retort to whoever makes fun of her for said thing, I guess I should learn to let it go.
It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t seeing as I have weird things too. I crack my knuckles and neck repeatedly causing those around me to cringe, and I pop my thumbs out of their sockets when I’m bored. I chew and twirl my hair like someone sitting outside of the principle’s office awaiting doom and I squish the tip of my nose into the bridge of my nose with two fingers when I’m thinking or not thinking because sometimes you gotta do you.
A friend of mine — and I do mean a friend, not a friend-that-is-actually-me — enjoys that disgusting tangy taste of deodorant.
Some people really like to stick their french fries in milkshakes. Leandra pulls her eyebrows out of her forehead. One of my best friends rubs a safety blanket on her cheek until she falls asleep. There are certain horses who enjoy chewing wood despite the fact that it’s very bad for them. Dogs eat grass until they puke. Mary Katherine Gallagher, bless her heart, used to do this:
But you know what’s coming next right? A call to the Cogitation Station, because I really need to know what your weird thing is…
And if you tell me, I Scout’s-Honor-Promise (in the voice of either one Miranda Hobbes or that girl from Frozen) that I’ll let it go.
Image shot by Louise Parker for the Cut.