"It does? It does?" I said, sniffing the air. I couldn't smell anything.
"Yeah," my sister said. "Well, I can't really place whether it's feed or manure. It smells like ... a farm."
I tried and tried, but I couldn't smell anything other than 'the outside.' It's not like I'm incapable of smelling manure. I can smell it when we're spreading it on the fields, I can smell it when I'm in the barn. But on normal days I never walk outside (and we were a half mile from a barn!) and think about smelling cow manure.
In college, I spent a summer living in Colorado. When I came home, I went running around my parents' house and I couldn't get over the way everything smelled SO MUCH. Obviously, in Colorado the air is thinner. Also, I was living in the city. So when I returned to the humid, smell-drenched country, I couldn't get enough of the scent! The wonderful scent!
My nephew stopped talking about the smell as we continued on our walk - he was too busy giggling with his cousin, running, and throwing rocks. Even though I couldn't smell what he smelled, I still know what he'll think of when he smells it. The hominess of visiting the farm.
And I taught him what we taught our kids as soon as they could speak. (And what all farmers teach their kids.) What do you say when you smell manure? ... SMELLS LIKE MONEY!