We’re having soup and leftover pizza for dinner. Sounds weird. Is good.
Nitram: Something in the laundry room smells funny.
Me: Funny how?
Nitram: I dunno.
Me: Well, what’s it smell like.
Nitram: I dunno, it just smells… unpleasant.
Me: Unpleasant how? I mean, what it’s smell like?
Nitram: I don’t know.
Me: How can you not know. Can’t you describe it?
Nitram (sighs): No. Well… it doesn’t smell like farts, it doesn’t smell like dead people… What?
My eyes are brimming. I have to put down my spoon.
Nitram: …it doesn’t smell like, like — the blowfish of Peru… what?
Me: You’re trying to kill me!
Nitram: Then stop eating.
Me: “The blowfish of Peru—” oh, God!
Then he starts laughing because I can’t stop, and he turns his back on me with a mouthful of soup he can’t swallow.
It takes a while but finally we’re calm enough to resume eating.
Me: After dinner, we should go upstairs and sniff the laundry room—
And we’re off again. Cold soup.