Sniff. Aaahhhh. Ooooh!

Smell is the strongest of senses. Most of us know that’s true but rarely think about it. A scent can trigger memories, good or bad, sweet or foul.

My baby has learned to sniff.

Sniff… “Ahhhh!”

Sniff…"Ooooh!”

…I think (can’t be sure, since I’ve never done this before) that this is a normal phase for babies her age.

A day or two ago, I was instantly transformed back into a 5 year old little girl, with long pigtails and scabbed knees, just because I smelled a scent. A very unexpected scent.

Last February, my maternal Grandfather gave my husband a very nice watch. My Grandpa is one of the most charming, best dressed, personable guys out there, and he’s spent the past 60 or so years collecting stuff. My grandparents’ house is full of collectibles, art and jewelry, watches and magnets from all over the world. Our family has a rich geographical history so there are things from EVERYWHERE around the world and pictures of people from all around the world that we’re somehow related to. It’s amazing.

Anyway, this watch is not that fancy. It is a very nice, fairly expensive men’s watch though and my husband shares my Grandpa’s love of watches so it was a very nice, very unexpected gift.

So, a couple days ago my child’s walking around with the watch… Have I mentioned how much she loves watches also?  It’s ridiculous. So she’s walking around with the watch, sniffing it.

Sniff…”Ahhh!”

Sniff…"Oooh!”

Then she lifts it up to me and I lean down for the obligatory sniff and...and…wait. This watch smells unbelievably good. What?

Yep.

And I was whisked back in time to holidays and long weekends at the house my grandparents use to own. With my Grandpa being teased about how long he would spend getting ready for church or to take us all out to the zoo or to the movies. He'd spend a good hour in the bathroom singing songs like "That's Amore"...although he's not even a little bit Italian…while lathering himself with his smelly lotions and potions and colognes...and when the bathroom door would open, fragrant steam would come rolling out and he'd stand there in his flip flops, a towel slung around his hips, grinning. He'd get dressed in soft slacks and sweater, or a suit with a bright tie and unbelievably shiny shoes and we'd go off to wherever we were exploring that day. "Get in the car." He'd growl. "Get in the car."

I wouldn’t say I’m unbelievably close to any of my grandparents…But I’m moderately close to my maternal grandparents and until now have always lived close enough to them to easily visit. It’s strange to look back at childhood memories and realize that all the memories of my Grandpa, big and small, are good ones.  

The watch smells like him. Like the scented steam that would come pouring out of the bathroom after his showers. And it makes me want to curl up in that scent, like the little girl that I was, getting ready to go on a big adventure with my Grandpa.

So…now the baby is no longer allowed to play with the watch. So if anyone else reading this would like to donate a watch, any sort of watch, to my child… Feel free.