One of the byproducts of being pregnant: I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my sense of smell.
Because last night Jake and I were down in the basement moving our freshly butchered deer meat into the freezer when suddenly his lip curled around his nostril as he asked, “Ugh, do you smell that?”
Me: “What?”
Jake: “That! That smell.”
Me: (sniff, sniff) “Nope. What’s it smell like?”
Jake: “Like decomposing mice. Or rotten meat. Ugh—how can you not smell that?”
Me: “Dunno. Smells like a spring day down here to me.”
Then we looked to the side and noticed Jake had accidentally left two packages of pork sausage and bacon from our freshly slaughtered pig out overnight. They’d been decaying near the wood stove for approximately 24 hours. They had gone off in a big way. Not that I could detect any of this. I even put my nose to the putrid products and caught a whiff of nothing.
I probably should be concerned, but I’m not. To be quite honest, I don’t really want to smell. I’m weary of smelling. I have smell fatigue. Especially after I’ve eaten a bowl of pork vindaloo and spinach dal with a heavy emphasis on curry, like what I plan to make for dinner tonight.
I will bring my husband to his knees.
Tags: rotten meat
That’s so backwards! Not that I’ve been pregnant, but I thought your sense of smell was supposed to go off the deep end in the other direction.
Maybe I have a really bad cold? That I’m not aware of?