My sister H played tennis in high school, so sometimes I'd pick her up or drop her off at practice. One day I picked her up and she plopped down, sweating and completely exhausted, in the passenger seat. Then she asked me if she smelled bad. I told her she did, so she rolled down the window and made me promise to tell her if she ever had BO in the future. Sure, what are sisters for.
Later that day I passed her in the kitchen as she was singing the Oscar Mayer wiener song.
H: 'cause Oscar Mayer has a way with B-A-L-O-G-N-A!
Me (loudly): B-O!
H (frantically smelling herself): What, still?! I showered! How could I...
Me (giggling): No, not you - the song! It's B-O-L-O-G-N-A, not B-A-L-O-G-N-A.
H was relieved that she didn't stink and I was tickled to know that she really took my BO policing seriously, a power that I never did milk as much as I should have.
