I Have A Cold -or- Sometimes It's Better Not To Be Able To Smell

This morning I was in the shower when Jay came in. "I took the trash out," he said.
"That's nice."
"It smells like rotting milk. Did you throw out any dairy products recently?"
"I guess I threw out an empty milk carton about a week ago."
"That must be it, then... it's disgusting."
"I see."
"Wait, can't you smell it? You've got to be able to smell it. It's horrible. I almost projectile vomited as I was taking the trash out."
"Nope! I have a cold! I can't smell a thing!"
"Aaugh."

It smelled so bad, apparently, that when we saw Susanna in dance class this afternoon she sheepishly owned up to having thrown out a rotting chicken over the weekend.

I'm home again now, and I still can't smell anything.

Jay can, though. He's buying a better trash can tomorrow.