Kids live life at Volume 11 but often have their hygiene on mute, so the stink they can whip up is truly breathtaking. As in, plug your nose and hold your breath kind of breathtaking.

Like wines, kids seem to ferment with age. Except there’s nothing “fine” about their Cabernet Soverygross or Pee-yoo Noir. Their clothes become deeply infused and we’re the ones left to “enjoy” and launder their vintage stankiness.

What if there were descriptions for the “bouquet” coming off kids’ clothes written like wine enthusiasts describe their adult grape juice?

A full-bodied, earthy fragrance with whispers of wet hay joined with the moldy undertones of an old dishwashing sponge.

You could’ve sworn you had a human child and not a wild animal that forges for food in a dumpster behind an all-you-can-eat buffet. Maybe you were wrong and you need to start looking for a tail.

This scent politely invites itself into your senses with sweet, delicate notes of honey and crisp morning dew.

HAH! Gotcha! Your child has obviously never even been in the same room as this article of clothing.

Packed with sharp, eye-watering notes of vinegar, followed by the tang of a dog’s moistened leather chew toy as this one opens up.

Don’t throw this in the trash unless you then light the trashcan on fire. If you are going to make the bold attempt to wash this one, use a toy claw to throw it straight into the laundry machine while it’s running on full blast.

Tangy locker-room vapors finish with a zesty scent of a coal miner sleeping in the body cavity of a dead yak.

Like the defense mechanism of certain animals, this article of clothing is trying to keep you away with a force field of repelling stench. This one tell the story’s of an entire season of professional athlete’s unwashed “lucky” socks.

A dank sewage cloud with piercing tones of burnt plastic and the tang of salty tears.

You can almost taste it, so handle it fast, but do so with care. It’s obviously booby trapped with a criminally terrible wipe job or full-scale “accident.”

This one leads with a medium-bodied fragrance of carseat yogurt with screaming notes of mace and dubstep.

You’ll probably threw up in your mouth a little. Which would probably be an improvement over what just assaulted your nostrils.

Savage hints of skunk roadkill and hardboiled eggs are tied together with toxic rubber-cement-esque fumes.

Rest assured, your kid has not been “turned” and not now one of the walking dead. Though, being a zombie would seem to explain a lot more about them, this is a perfectly natural unnatural smell.

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A lot of these you’re just going to want to get rid, as in “bury them in a forest” type of get rid of. Best just to replace some clothes, try to forget and move on.