The stay-at-home dad Superhuman smelling power

Superhuman smelling power

My five-year-old daughter has a super sniffer.

The term, popularized by Dule’ Hill’s character Burton Guster on the TV series, “Psych,” refers to individuals with an uncanny ability to detect faint smells. My daughter has such an ability, and she considers “smelling things” as one of her favorite hobbies.

Her superpower became apparent during bedtime routine. She likes to be rocked and sung to before bed, and she frequently interrupts “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with comments about my breath.

“Dad, your breath smells like coffee. It’s gross.”

“Daddy, I brushed my teeth before bed but you didn’t.”

I brush more often now just to avoid her criticism, so hopefully the routine pays off at my next dental exam.

Another superpower-related criticism from the soon-to-be-kindergartner: She throws smell-related shade whenever I’m in the kitchen using the stovetop.

“Daddy, it smells like you’re going to set off the smoke alarm.”

Me: “I’m not going to set off the alarm, It’s just cooking.”

“But you always set off the smoke alarm.”

Sure enough, two times out of three, the smoke alarm chirps. It’s a sensitive smoke detector, in my opinion.

She really enjoys smelling things… even gross things. She loves canned beans and smells that disgusting slop every time she dumps some into a bowl. She loves the smell of the juice in the pickle jar, an odor I personally consider to be Satanic. And while I don’t think she necessarily “likes” smelling her younger brother’s poopy diapers, she can detect one from across a room.

I just learned about another of her smell-related hobbies. Apparently, she likes to collect her mom’s old gum wrappers. I recently saw her walking out of our bedroom incessantly sniffing a tiny piece of foil.

“Daddy, I got a lime flavor for my collection.”

Huh?! What kid collects gum wrappers?

My wife answered me stone-faced: “Oh yeah, she takes all of my gum wrappers.:

I then asked my daughter what she liked about them.

“They smell. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. GOOD!” Then she laughed like a Bond villain.

Her collection currently includes a few different mints, cinnamon, watermelon, strawberry-lime, tropical-citrus and others. I smelled a few of them and couldn’t differentiate between the flavors. I don’t think the odor lasts very long after removing the gum, but she vehemently disagrees.

Her smelling gets even weirder than that.

“This smells like grandma,” referring to a piece of clothing that’s been washed at least nine times.

“Daddy, I want to eat what your breath smells like.” I’ll ask her to guess what I ate, sometimes from hours ago, and she usually nails it. To be fair, it’s often pungent salami.

“My blanket that’s not my car blanket smells like the car. BUT IT HASN’T BEEN IN THE CAR!”

I wonder if her super sniffer will become more powerful as she grows older. Or maybe she’s already at the top of her game, and I need to find some way to monetize it now. Could it be a sideshow attraction for a state fair? Are there competitions? Could she be a helpful sidekick to a psychic detective? Can we impress celebrity chefs like Gordon Ramsay with her exquisite palette?

That last one might not work out, since she still has a huge blind spot when it comes to smelling vegetables, or eating them for that matter.

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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer and a stay-at-home dad to four children, ages 3-9. He is tired, but you can still reach him at twilson@cdapress.com.