I was stuck in a shelter some time ago, and

was ''blessed'' with a young room mate who had the worst foot odor I have run into. I complained to the guy who was in charge and he brushed me off. Eventually, the guy in charge had to come into our room to make the boy (yes, my room mate was a big, stupid, lazy kid who was passing for an adult) turn off his alarm that had been going for about an hour, and he ran into a wall of funk that almost made him puke. He stepped back into the hall, then gathered himself up and made the ''boy'' get out of bed and go wash his feet, and his socks and made him put some foot powder in his shoes. I wanted to like the boy, but everyone in his family had given up on him and wouldn't let him move in with them. I did feel sorry for him for that, but honestly, he did it all to himself. I have one really nice memory from living in that old folks home. We had a meeting in the dining room. The dining room had these huge windows that looked onto the patio... There was an older grandma baby sitting a boy of about five, I think, and he came up to her to tell her that he had to pee. She told him to go outside to relieve hisself. So he did. He went outside pulled his pants down to his knees and let loose. From where I sat, I had a clear view of him from the side. I never wanted to yell ''HALLELUIA'' as much as I wanted to at that time.