We’ve all heard the “experts” say that if you can smell it on yourself, you’re wearing too much –
To which I reply: Hogwash!
There is no such thing as too much of a good thing. What is more, I don’t wear colognes or perfumes for anyone besides myself. If I can’t smell it, I’m clearly not wearing enough. Granted, a good eau de cologne is expensive, costing anywhere between £40-60 ($60-90), which is, in my opinion nothing to sniff at!
At present, my dresser holds precisely three good scents: Very Irresistable by Givenchy, Elle by Emporio Armani, and La Vie est Belle by Lancome, my personal favourite. But back in the day when HH and I had a bit more cash, my dressing table boasted somewhere in the region of 20 fragrances that I would switch up depending on mood or season or time of day. Around this time, our first grandson was a toddler, and he spent a fair time visiting Nanny and PopPop. Someshere along the line, he started pointing to my dressing table and wrinkling up his nose, sniffing in and out loudly – it was ADORABLE, but I guess you had to be there.
“You wanna do the sniffing, Ash?” I would ask, to which he would reply, “TA!”*
I would plop him in the middle of my bed and begin the ritual of presenting each and every spray bottle to him for his perusal. He would pop off the lids with his chubby little hands and make a great show of sniffing each scent, choosing his favourite for me to wear. Sometimes (and I know it was a bit naughty!) I would let him wear a little dab on his wrist to sniff to his heart’s content.
Our eldest grandchild is now eight, and a more affectionate, cuddly child it would be hard to come by. He loves snuggling into me, wrapping me up in a little boy bear hug that is heart melting.
This memory, buried for many years, resurfaced just the other night.
I was in the middle of jam making when the boys stayed over. PopPop had completed the bedtime rituals of stories and prayers already, and I was summoned upstairs to issue goodnight kisses. Ash folded me up in his bear hug and then promptly pushed me away. “Nanny!” he cried, “You smell like… WORK!” He looked up at me incredulously, as if a working Nanny was the oddest thing of all. “AND you’re all… SWEATY!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Considering that the set point on jam is around 220º, I was sweaty indeed! “Yeah, buddy,” I said, “I’ve been making jam and it’s hot work!”
He looked doubtful, but gave me a one armed hug, careful not to let me drench him in my workish sweat.
Until that moment, I had no idea that Ashton’s hugging has been little more than an extension of “the sniffing” he did as a baby… Nannies are meant to smell sweet always. (And never, ever like work!)
Ah, the brutal honesty of a grandchild… God love them all!
Feature Photo: Shutterstock
*Ta, for the record, is a word that covers everything from ‘yes’ to ‘please’ to ‘thank you’, though most use it as a rough approximation of “thnaks!”
© motherhendiaries 2015, all rights reserved.