This new laundry detergent is killing me. I smell like a soft drink.
Be truthful with me, now. Smell this. You smell that?
Do my clothes smell like grapes to you?
I’m telling you, this country’s obsession with smells has gone too far.
Don’t get me wrong. I have some lavender-geranium “hydrating lotion” – as opposed to that lousy dehydrating lotion I used to use – that I really enjoy. Makes me think that I might be getting a massage soon. But some of the combination of smells that the companies are coming up with!
Mandarin-Eucalyptus Salamander-Emollient Butter? Ginger-Monkey-Butt French-Milled Dusting Powder?
Admit it. You may not know where to buy them, but you suspect that they’re available for sale somewhere, don’t you?
I enjoy fragrances. I do: Spring is lilacs and open-window breezes, Summer is line-dried sheets and mown grass, Fall is burning leaves and baked goods, Winter is pine boughs and the “smell” of cold.
And when I speak of the “smell” of cold, those in northern climes know what I mean.
Those smells are precious to me because of what they represent, however; and the ability to spray “Woodland Pine” or some such silliness into my bathroom?
I’m not the only one who is confused.
“Hey, Mom,” The Boy said, wandering into the kitchen, “I think Paul Bunyan just took a !@#$ in our bathroom.”
I can see where he’d get that impression.
Still, what can one do? We vote for these things, as it were, with our spending habits.
And you heard it here first: I will no longer buy the Strawberry Saddle and Mulled Basil laundry detergent.
I’m putting my unscented foot down.
A Little Trust
14 hours ago