When I was in my 20s, I dated a guy whose smell I really couldn’t stand. He didn’t smell bad, per se, but there was something about his natural scent that turned me off. (I also didn’t like his wardrobe or the way he chewed, and yet we were together for several months. Not sure what I was thinking.) It turns out that it’s good that we eventually broke up, because now comes the news that his unappealing smell may have been a signal of a much bigger relationship issue.

About a year ago, I learned that my brother was sick with an incurable genetic disease called primary biliary cirrhosis. So subtle were the symptoms that by the time he went to the doctor complaining of fatigue, itchiness and swelling in his legs, his liver had already failed and he would require indefinite treatment with expensive medications and monthly surgeries.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never considered the daily application of deodorant to be a terribly arduous task. I do, however, abhor having those telltale white streaks on every black shirt I put on. So when I heard about another solution (besides just being smelly), I was curious. Apparently, you can eat your way to sweeter-smelling sweat.

As a flat-chested young girl, I dutifully tried a few tricks that promised to produce some much-coveted cleavage. But all of the rounds of “We must, we must, we must increase our bust” did nothing to get me beyond a B-cup. Apparently, there’s a more foolproof (if painful-sounding) technique that I neglected to check out.

Hoping your newborn will someday become a United Nations interpreter? Keep your ears fine-tuned to baby babbling at age 1. Babbling, understanding what you’re saying and using sounds to seek interaction are clues that she could eventually soak up new languages like crazy. In other words, all that incessant babbling means that learning English, Italian, Mandarin, Russian and Japanese -- all at once -- might be a piece of cake for your little one.

Until the day she died, my golden retriever was there for my life’s milestones. Not only did I love her, but she also reduced my stress and added to my happiness, all while carrying a ball in her mouth and wagging her tail. When I met my husband, he instantly recognized that she had seniority as my significant other. Smart man. At our wedding, she was the ring bearer.

Why is the topic of snoring so funny, yet so NOT funny all at once? I was debating this question with a girlfriend over dinner last night, and we came to this conclusion: snoring is just so uncontrollably unromantic -- doesn’t matter who you are.

You could be a supermodel, but once the snoring starts, fantasy over. You could be having a hot fling, but the fire is g-o-n-e with the first snort. You could be swirling in the bliss of having found “the one,” but a number of sleepless nights because of your partner’s snores, and rapture becomes reality. Married four years, I get a dose of “reality” pretty much every night (I’ll admit, sometimes from myself).

I’ve been writing about health and nutrition long enough to have learned a thing or two about what I should and shouldn’t be eating, and fruits and vegetables are high on the “should” list. Most experts recommend that we eat somewhere in the neighborhood of five to seven servings a day, and the more the better. The benefits they bestow on every aspect of health are almost too numerous to list.

But I just came across yet another reason why I should sit down to a big bowl of salad tonight. Apparently, it’s going to help my attitude.