Dirty socks

I was on the way home from work, dozing off in the passenger seat of the waja as it rained all around, when the news report jolted me awake.

"A student with very smelly feet has gotten legal consent to attend lectures"

Wow! Just how smelly can someone's feet get that you can actually be banned from classes? I mean, I understand it when police arrest people for drug trafficking and possessing firearms; or even when people are not allowed into restaurants for not wearing ties.

But smelly feet! What a waste! Half the students I know will actually try and get legal consent NOT to attend classes! License for truant. Heh heh.

Then again, you will have to think about the poor classmates though; I almost feel their agony. Back in primary school, I used to sit beside this fat bloke (no offense to my slightly rounded friends. Really.) Now the problem I have really is not about his size; it's his BOD, which translates into Body Odor of Death.

The worst part is that he loves to play sports! So comes that fine day every week when we are forced to go for PE lessons, and he will work up such a sweat, he will easily put the tsunami to shame: in sheer magnitude and number of people rushing to get out of the way.

But hey, I'm not all that perfect either (Yes, believe it). Just last week we were playing this game, and we were supposed to stand in one straight line for the amusement of the owner of the house. I lifted my arms to signal to someone at the back, and the person who was behind me visibly flinched and turned away.

So here's a friendly community advice to all you people out there: wear deodorant, and wash your feet. Or if all else fails, just learn to breathe with only your mouth.