The Smell of Teen Spirit...

Being the father of a teenager carries a number of unforeseen responsibilities. Right now, I'm preparing to deliver forgotten PE kit, so 14-year-old son can take part in an after-school martial arts group. The kit has been residing (more accurately, festering) in a sports bag for several days now and probably represents a biohazard. As I walk to school, with this offensive article slung over my shoulder (straps adjusted so that the body of the bag is furthest from my olefactory receptor), I'll take care to keep away from other people. Can't help but wonder if the malodurous nature of the kit is a defensive strategy: after all, you'd have to be a pretty determined opponent to come into close proximity to the wearer to be able to even attempt a hold or throw, and hanging on would be foolhardy, to say the very least.