Reading to my son at bedtime, he once told me that he doesn't like dark skin because it stinks.
[Horror!] I gulp deeply, trying to make my voice sound light.
:: Why do you think it stinks?
He says that jumping and rolling around on the trampoline that day he realized when he got close to the neighbor girls they smelled.
:: Well I think it might be the stuff they put on their hair to make it soft that smells funny, not their skin. I mean how could something smell just because of its color? [He considers.] You have dark skin too compared to some people. Does your skin smell?
:: No because my skin isn't really dark.
:: Well what about my friend Aunt Donna who has really dark skin - does she smell? Or what about Michael? He's really dark - darker than the girls. Does he smell?
:: [he considers] No, they don't smell.
:: So it might not be the girls' skin then, but the stuff in their hair. If someone came up to you and said your skin smelled, how would you feel?
:: But I don't have dark skin.
:: Compared to me you do. [I pause to see if it sinks in] Don't you think if you were in a group of all light skinned people, then you would have dark skin? Or if you were in a group of dark skinned people you would would have light skin?
He quietly pondered and, not wanting to answer, he made a non-commital "Hmm" signifying the end of the exchange. Before I continued reading our bedtime story, I pleaded with him to not ever think people smelled because of their skin color. He agreed.
I swallowed my horror of the whole topic, and continued reading our book.
