My son told me this morning my arm smells like mom. What does that mean? Which I asked of course, and the response? “I don’t know.” Helpful. “Is that a good smell?” I give my arm a healthy sniff. “I don’t know. It just smells like mom.” Smells like Tide to me.
We associate smells with things and events. The smell of burning wood reminds me of my high school Friday night football games. Good smell. The smell of salmon reminds me of when I was pregnant and the smell of just about anything made me nauseaus. Which will the smell of mom be as my son grows into a man? I probably don’t want to know. I can only hope it will remind him of home, warmth, and laughter. Yeah, I know, that’s the writer in me coming out. I smell it a mile away.