Me: "Yup. Bring it to me. But only a little bit."
Julia: (brings me tube and leans in close) Ugh! OH MY GOSH, THIS IS THE WORST PART! I love how it looks, but I HATE HOW IT SMELLS!"
Me: (sniffing wand) What do you mean smells? (sniff, sniff) It just smells like mascara."
Julia: "Yeah! And mascara smells like ROTTEN EGG GAS! And STINKERS! Hold on, I have to hold my breath!" (sucks in lung full and leans back in for more application)
Me: (sniffing again) Rotten egg gas stinkers? You're crazy! I don't smell anythi......oh. Oh. OH! That's not the mascara, dear. That's me! That's my morning breath!
Seems every single time she asks me to apply mascara, her nose is downwind from my A.M. kisser. Apparently bums aren't the only things capable of emitting. 'Nuff said.