I know something you don't know...

I was pretty young the first time that I smelled my bellybutton fuzz. I don't know what possessed me to do so. I shouldn't say possessed; that makes this deed sound almost demonic, or if anything, just wrong. But I don't think it was wrong. I have always been curious about a lot of things. And this is one that I rarely confess to others. It's not even that I often think of this instance (or multiple instances as, and I will shamelessly admit, I have more than once checked out the scent of what gathers in those tight folds at my core) and decide not to tell others. It's really not like that at all. To me, it's just not a really big deal. I thought everyone did it. I was certain that everyone knew what their bellybutton fuzz smelled like. I thought this was just another childhood discovery for everyone who was ever aged 6-12, (i.e. everyone).

Notice the past tense. This was what I thought. Until it came up in conversation the other day that I never really liked the idea that stuff gathered there, and I especially didn't like that it was stinky. The reaction of others was far from agreement, not near what I was expecting, like, "Oh I know! Isn't it gross?" or "Why does fuzz gather there?" or "Why does it have to be stinky?". (Oh, it is stinky, if you at this point still have not dug your finger into your own unique crevice in your belly and taken a good whiff of what you can pluck out. Or maybe it isn't. Maybe it doesn't stink for everyone.) By stinky, I want you to imagine the smell of a wet pool towel that is thrown into the trunk of the car after a lazy summer day of swimming and is neglected for at least a month, but possibly a good part into the school year. You know, just another one of those deeds that makes every teenager appear "unorganized" and just plain "gross". But that is a digression. Bellybutton fuzz smells like mildew.

I thought it was normal that I knew this. But I should never overestimate the understanding nature of my close friends. It's not that I never considered this childhood discovery laughable. It is a little ridiculous, I know. But I never thought that I would be the center of laughter on this subject instead of my past childish curiosity, not to mention the topic of bellybuttons. They are just weird in themselves, ok? Why not just stick to this topic, rest content in laughing about bellybuttons. It is what holds your laughing belly together, anyway. You are laughing about the place from which the laugh is coming! Isn't that FUNNY? Hahaha! Just keep laughing. Haha! I want to laugh just thinking about it.

I am not ashamed, however. Far from it, actually. (That's why I'm posting this anecdote on my blog, which is a wide and open page for all who surf the net.) Know what your crevices hold, my friends. Embrace the dig, pull out the lint, sniff, and laugh. But, just in case you are yet to learn this important lesson, do it alone, and don't tell your friends.