Repeating Offender

I’m sitting at the computer with the family dog curled up lovingly at my feet, his paws twitching as he dreams of wild bunny chases through a sunlit meadow, and all I know is that Glade doesn’t make a scent like what just crawled up the leg of my stretchy pants and smacked me in the face.

I don’t know why a family cookout should affect him this way. Either there’s something about my Uncle Joe’s aftershave that doesn’t agree with him, or else a random bite of Oscar Mayer’s finest translates into the signature scent that is presently hovering in a cloud of noxious fumes that untied my shoelaces, ate holes in my socks, and made my perm go flat.

Fanning the air furiously with my computer mouse, I have to admit the air freshener people may be on the right track. They can churn out everything from baby powder to laundered linen, but there’s probably not a staggering demand for a wall mounted dispenser in paralyzing rotten cloud scent. Every thirty minutes it would emit a spray that fogs your windows, eats the color off the linoleum, and kills your houseplants. With enough propulsion it could also deter burgulars and discourage free range inlaws from dropping in unexpectedly.

As it is, I’m thinking of checking online for a HazMat suit to wear when spending quality time with the resident Labrador. Sure it cuts down on personal contact, but really, if it’s quality that counts, then safety gear is essential.