Belly Buttons Sweat

I have an annoying little thing on my person that I call a pimple cyst thingy. I've named it Wilbur. The hubby man is scared of Wilbur. He said it wouldn't be scary except that it has a name and talks to him. He just says things like, "Yo, dude, touch me." "If you don't touch me Erin will show you disgusting pictures of people's surgeries again." I don't see what's so bad about that. Maybe Wilbur's lonely.
Hubby said it's as bad as belly button sweat. My belly button sweats. Who knew! It's never done that before. Of course I've never been in a house that's 167 degrees with 99% humidity like I was earlier this week. Laying on the couch, 12 fans blowing hot air at me, I told the hubs to feel my belly button. Like a good obedient boy, he did. Then he made a face I've never seen before and told me how disgusting I am while I peed my pants laughing. Obviously he didn't know belly buttons sweat either because the look on his face made it clear there's no way he would have knowingly done that. Now he's scared of Wilber and my belly button.
These 2 things are "gross", yet he'll smell anything disgusting. Willingly. Knowingly. I'll tell him how bad something smells and before I can throw it away, he wants to know how bad it smells. And it's always the same, "Whoo, that's bad!" Yeah, I told you it's bad. And then it gets passed between him and the 13 year old son so they can each declare how nasty it is. Okay, if some chic told me something stank, I'd believe her and walk out of the room holding my nose. Someone announces something stinks, and guys come running to share in the nastiness. It's like a test to see who will stop sniffing first.
I will never understand men.