It's a good thing he's handy around the house.

We just had this exchange as I work through my stack of BPAL frimps with grim determination...

Me: ::Dabs Hymn on skin::
Me: Shawn, smell my finger!
Him: I don't *think* so.
Me: C'mon, smell my finger!
Him: Yuck! Floral! Blech!
Me: It's not floral, it's supposed to be resin!
Him: I *hate* floral! It gets in my nose and I can't get it out!
Me: Okay, smell this over here.
Him: Peaches?
Me: It's supposed to be apricots! At least it's not floral.
Him: It's...okay.
Me: Well, what do you *want* me to smell like?
Him: Steak!