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Stinky Smiths
2004-12-23 - 12:47 a.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
But not today. Today its time for a Christmas Story.
The religious story of the Smelly Smiths.
In church school, we had to go to chapel every wednsday, followed by
church services on Sunday. During advent this amounted to a lot of church
servicesattended, twice on wednsday, and once on Sunday with the parents.
And my school kept track of those things. Regularly, every monday
morning the teacher would go student by student and ask them if they had been
to church on sunday. Bonus points were given for that, and for attending
sunday school.
Imagine that: piety points. Believe it or not, I scored well.
Not by my will. I've never been a morning person. But by the
domineering will of my mother, who determined I would have a Christian upbringing
whether I liked it or not, no matter how much it discomfited my
sleeping arrangements. Even at an early age.
So, the teacher would take church attendance every monday, and then on
thursday after midweek advent services.
Interesting that, but maybe only to me, that on Thursday (Thor's
day--norsemythology) we had to speak up in front of class to attest to attending
services at the local gathering place of christian mythology. Which
one would be more fun, I have to wonder. A religion bent on confrontation,
subjugation, and aggression, or norse mythology.
And every time, the Smith girl in my class would sink in her chair.
She hardly went to church. Often church attendance was marked on the wall
withgold stars.
Then some sort of accounting mania overtook our teachers, and they made
us keep a public record of our hygeine as well. Up on the wall, for all
to see, after the teacher called out roll for church, then they would also
keep track of whether or not we showered or brushed our teeth.
The smith family children didnt bathe, nor brush. Or attend church.
They became known as the Stinky Smiths.
One day there was a lice outbreak of some sort. I'm not entirely sure
what went down to trigger the concern, because thinking of it now...
The teacher's spouse came in, and there were other assorted helpers.
Two by two we were taken out into the hallway, sat in a chair, and they
groomed ourscalps with their fingers, sorting through our hair for lice.
And who got sent home that day from school with lice? The Stinky
Smiths.Which makes me question, who put the Lice Alert (tm) out? Couldnt be
one of their parents, could it? And why wait until your kids got to school?
They were the only ones sent home that day. The oldest hid her head with a
book as she cried tears of shame while walking by all the classroom doors on
her way out of the school. She was trying to make a break with their
smelly ways, trying to clean up, get boys to like her. Still she was claimed
by their odiferous legacy, bound by their disdain for all that is clean.
I did not have any lice.
When I was little, say five or six years old, I rode on a hayride with
my class. The Stinky Smith girl in my grade, Sara, hovered around me. I
wasnt mean to her like the other kids, even though I didnt like her smell. I
think she had a crush on me. Maybe because I was a good looking kid,
but maybe just because I was nice.
Anyway, she had this horrible pussy red cold sore exploding from her
face,right by her lip. I was fascinated and repulsed by it. I took a long
piece of straw and poked at it. It looked scabby and disgusting, like it
would pop.
My mother was there, and she swatted the straw out of my hand,
horrified by my behavior. Later on in life, when I brought it up, she mentioned
that she was also apprehensive of me catching whatever the hell it was that was
hanging off of her face. 'Why they sent that child to school, much
less a hay-ride and field-trip, with that thing on her face, I have no idea'
she said.
Sara said she didnt mind, but the chaperones said they did, and that I
shouldnt have done that.
All I know was that was my first encounter with a Stinky Smith.
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