A sculpture of Togo, a famous Seppala Siberian sled dog who retired in Maine and has inspired the push for a state dog. The bronze sculpture was created by Maine artist David Smus. Daryn Slover/Sun Journal

This legislative session, between debating about how to create more affordable housing and reform our child welfare system, Maine lawmakers will decide whether to name the Seppala Siberian sled dog, spring peeper and wood turtle our official state dog, amphibian and reptile, respectively.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Before we go adding multiple cold-blooded creatures to our increasingly chaotic catalog of state emblems, can we take care of some more low-hanging fruit that have yet to make the list?

I’m not talking about wild blueberries; they’re already represented as both the state berry and the defining ingredient in the state dessert (blueberry pie). But where’s the acknowledgment of the humble potato? Surely that workhorse of The County is a shoo-in for state root vegetable.

Maine Italian sandwiches from Corsetti’s in Westbrook. Derek Davis/Portland Press Herald

And how has the Maine Italian not yet been named our state sandwich? Perhaps there’s concern about competition from the lobster roll, which would open up the debate about whether that’s a sandwich at all, and who’s got time for that when there’s a budget to pass?

But if there’s room for a state march and a state ballad, I think we can find a place for both. Maybe the lobster roll is our state dish-served-in-a-hot-dog-bun. Though that would be quite the snub to the red snapper. I’ve got it: We could make that our state encased meat.

Maybe I’m just hungry. Maine is, of course, about much more than food. We’ve got lakes and lighthouses and … Patrick Dempsey! He can be our state hunk — no knock on Paul Bunyan. He is our best model for how to pull off buffalo check, a front-runner for state plaid. And if California has named denim as its state fabric, we should do the same for flannel.

A salesperson helps a customer shopping for boots at the L.L. Bean flagship retail store in Freeport in March 2021. Robert F. Bukaty/Associated Press

When it comes to clothing, however, there’s no more obvious symbol than the Bean Boot, what long ago should have been named our state shoe. To top off our official state outfit, I’m sure there’s a legislator from Farmington who’d submit a bill to make earmuffs, invented by native son Chester Greenwood, our state headwear.

But Maine is self-assured enough that we don’t have limit ourselves to points of pride.

Have you ever taken visitors for a walk along the waterfront, only to see their noses scrunch up in disgust? Instead of trying to divert their attention to the picturesque boats in the harbor, I think it would be nice if you could say, “Ah, I see you’ve detected our state stench.”

You can continue to distract them with the history of Maine industry and tales of the prosperity of paper mills, emanating with the smell of rotten eggs — our state heritage stench.

The point is, instead of naming new state emblems all willy-nilly, we’ve got to prioritize. Before taking up these bills (but after the more important things), the Legislature needs to establish an Office of Maine State Stuff.

And if it looks like it’s going to get killed for lack of funding, I’ll volunteer as its director.