The Smell of it

Catchy huh?
Well my husband has said it for years as have my friends. "You're words can ruin anything."
I am sometimes embarrassed by that, more often than not, I'm proud.
Today it was necessary.

As you know I have tucked myself away at Promises alone for a week. It has been the best therapy a mortgage could buy.  The moon has been full playing across the lake at night, the weather has been fantastic and warm. I even drove through the mountains topless. I spent a day at my favorite spa up here and left so happy and relaxed I could have cried, but with my new look, I'd have been FABULOUS doing it. Life is good; better still, so am I.

I ventured in to town to do some Christmas shopping; vowing to myself that I can and WILL enjoy this holiday season; no PES (Pissy Elf Syndrome) here. Taking my time, I wandered into a perfume shop because my daughter wants some.  She is old enough and we have practiced at great lengths how to do it.

Sprrrray ONCE. step through. May repeat ONE time if you go in the wrong direction BUT NOT if you shoot yourself in the face because the nozzle was pointed wrong. This is a valuable lesson. Perfume is sexy to me.I love it and I love to smell it BUT (and that is one BIG BUT), it is intended for intimate or close contact.  I think it's sexy when you are up close and get a  whiff...soft, sublte. Don't smack me in the face and yell
"I SMELL LIKE FLOWERS!!!! PRET-TY PRET-TY FLOWERS" Good God that just makes me wince and sparks a headache. of mammoth proportions. And no I DON"T want to smell it from my car behind you at the stoplight because your window is down. Everyone knows you smoke you idiot! Elizabeth Arden would slam that Red Door in your face if she knew you were using that instead of the ugly pine tree or cardboard dolphin..And for the love of Chloe DON'T I repeat DON'T apply so firetrucking much that it attaches itself to MY coat allowing me to think you are inside it with me two weeks from now. Less is more. Whoa...did I type that out loud? hmmm...sorry

Let's seee...ah! Sprrrray ONCE. Step through. Got it.
So I take a deep breath and rush in. These Perfume places can kill you.
"Iwantobuysomeperfumeformydaughter...."pssshwaaaaah my breath explodes from my face. I breathe in. Nothing. No burning lungs. No headache. Just air. I smile. Christmas shopping is fun.

The old woman glowers over her glasses and juts her chin to the other associate who smiles and steps up.
"Let's seeee How old is she?"
"Thirteen."
"hmmmm that's tough." the battle axe who didn't want to wait on me mutters.
I stop to think if you need a license to buy perfume...IS she too young? "I'd like something light and clean."  I chirp, deciding she is not.

"Well How about something by Britney Spears? That's very popular."

My face falls. "No." I say flatly.
She furrows her brow a bit. "Okay then well, how about Paris Hilton?"

My teeth come together firmly in an audible "click" "OH no." I shake my head and frown.

"Well those are the most popular for girls that age." the red headed Christmas gargoyle snaps from behind a stack of perfume cards. "I don't know of other things designed for..." She sprays them thickly on to the cards and wafts them at me. Her voice is ripping the cilia from my ear canal. I feel my lip pull in....it's too late for her. I have reached three. Screw one and two.

I step back and look at the FOUR WALLS crammed with hundreds of bottles; placing my hands gently on the counter I thoughtfully scan the shelves:

"Really? The ONLY ones? That's funny. Now, I don't know much about either of those little girls except what gets splashed all over the Internet. Let's see, lovely little Britney is surely a trend setter when it comes to motherhood, childcare, relationships and HAIRSTYLES. Then we have Paris. Miss Hilton if you recall just got a teensy bit embarrassed by having some cocaine on her person." I titter and put three fingers up to my mouth.  "So I guess I'm wondering actually why I WOULD spend any money for their product for my teenage daughter. I certainly know that I don't want my child to smell like one of their nights out....WOULD You? Have a whiff..." I shake the card back at her and breathe in through my mouth with a big huff. "Smells like...shame and poor judgement. So what else do you have???" and a smile that reads "Kiss my ass on THAT" pops up across my sweet blinking face.

The gargoyle slouches and sneers. She sniffs and wipes her nose but retreats to the shelves. I thought I heard her gag but maybe that is wishful thinking

The woman who was originally helping me steps in. "I have this..." she sprays once and waves the card through and hands it to me.

"Yes. This is very nice. I like it. What else do you think ..." and we stroll away leaving the gargoyle to grouse and imagine my face on the bottom of each item she is thwacking with her pricing gun.

So I had success. I bought my daughter some lovely perfume that in no way makes me think of the dirty,  unstable mom and Mouse-ka-teer or the over used,  under dressed, mentally void heiress. To give those girls' perfumes as gifts lends a whole new meaning to "Ho Ho Ho".



Thanks for stopping by. I hope we can sit and visit again soon.