My old man

I always knew that Brent's sense of smell wasn't as keen as mine. He bought a smoker's house and never even noticed or at least. . . . failed to mention it to me. It wasn't a good surprise.

Well now that he is pushing 40 the rest of his senses are apparently going too.

This morning was a little crazy since we had just got back from a 3 day weekend in New England. No one could find their book bags, and there was nothing in the house to pack for lunches. Two kids missed the bus.

Brent was the first to pour his bowl of cereal. He took one bite of his frosted shredded wheat and said, "Oh, this is terrible. The cereal is way too sweet." I was trying out a new grocery store's generics.

He gave his bowl to Marcus who started eating but made slow progress. Then he poured some for Caroline and had a bowl of cornflakes himself. Just as he was finishing up I took my first bite - spit it out and ran screaming into the kitchen so I could rinse my mouth out.

Completely sour milk. I couldn't believe he just ate it. And thought it was just bad generic cereal. Once he saw me spitting he agreed that his second bowl tasted bad also, but said he just figured his taste buds were going and kept eating. And this is the man who tells everyone what a great cook his wife is. I think I need a fresh opinion.

And some fresh milk.

I will keep the old man though. He likes my cooking.