When I was growing up I thought my mother had a superhuman sense of hearing and overly developed olfactories. I believed she could hear a whisper on the other side of the house and smell what the people two blocks away were cooking for dinner.
So one day I told her she had ears like a cat and a nose like a dog. “So you’re telling me I look like a dog?” she asked, feigning offense. Realizing how bad that sounded I amended my statement. “No! You know what I mean. You hear like a cat and smell like a dog!” Yeah. Not better by a long shot. I believe I inherited her dog nose and my family is totally insensitive to my superior sniffing skills.
I can smell a stinky bathroom from a different floor. No matter how many times I tell them to turn on the fan and close the door it seems to be too much to remember. They might remember to turn on the fan but leave the door wide open, thereby allowing the stink to escape before the fan can absorb it all. Or they may close the door but leave the fan off, letting the stench slip out through the bottom.
I don’t think I’m asking too much, do you?
1. Turn on the fan.
2. Close the door.
I suppose I should be happy they remember to flush.