Ode to Joy

There are times when the slightest smell or sound can take you back to a place in time where you swear you are drowning in deja-vu. Like the other day I went to the car wash and splurged on the full carpet/floor mat/dash-interior cleaning package. I like to pamper my car. I mean, I figure if I can go get my pedicures, and eyebrow tints- Its the least I can do for my Fancy Sophia- or my Buick Rendevous. Apparently I didnt select from the fragrance list, so they just used the default- NewCarSmell. But somehow- it really didnt smell like new-car smell.. it really was like, Cranberry-Oatclusters with a dash of leather?

If you know me, you know im a smeller. I register people, and places and things, with smells. I have all my life. I would sit at my moms feet as she did dishes, or cooked, and would hold and sniff-explore the bottles of cleaners, candles, and boxes of cereals until she had to pry me off the floor and out of the cabinets.
I would just smell the plastic, the sugars, the lotions, the pine sol- and could amuse myself for hours.
Until one day, The Joy bottle was left corked open, and I squeezed it a bit as I was pulling it out of the cabinet. It caught my eye because my mom was doing the dishes, and she had just put it into the cabinet after filling the dispenser on the counter. Mind you- I was about 3-4 years old, and this is my first memory as a child. But the senses remember so much, even after all these years..
Well, my mom went to answer the phone- and this was when we actually had to answer phones and not know who it was on the other end prior to the Hello, and she sat down and started to gab for what seemed like hours. When in reality it probably was about 10 minutes.

I was amazed at the bubbles that came out of this yellow bottle. Bubbles were a facination to me. Well aren't they for most kids- and even some adults??

Well, I was in a sensory haze of a ton of chemicals that probably will cause some irrevocable disease some day- and after I went on to the next cabinet to pull out the pans to start my music training- I remember reaching for my yellow bottle to drink some juice, and didnt bat an eye when the juice had a thick soapy taste to it. I started to bang on the pans and just as my mom was ending her phone call, My brother Jim started laughing at me, because as I was singing along to my drum ruckus, I was hickuping out a collection of bubbles.

Seemed I had grabbed the wrong yellow bottle and didnt mind that I was now cross-eyed marveling at the bubbles I was creating out of my own mouth. My mom panicked and grabbed me, and started giving me cup fulls of water. Thinking that she would wash out the soap from my mouth. This of coarse made the situation worse.

My brother laughed hysterically, which made me laugh and hiccup the more.
It turns out my brother was watching me the whole time and saw that I didnt get into anything bad, but thought that the Joy would not hurt me. I was his little science experiment.

My mom to this day feels immence guilt about the bubbles and how free she was with my cabinet explorations.

I think that if I had kids- I would would be the paranoid mom with all the drawers and cabinets child locked.

So if you have any Olfactory people in your life- the ones that could spend a chunk of time in the candle isle, or the raincoat isle, or those that actually enjoy putting up new shower curtains just to smell the release of the encased plastic and be the first to capture it in their nostrils...
Just take comfort and knowing they probably will be good to have around if a fire ensues, or
you have some dishes to clean up.

Blessings,
Julieloo