So I wonder how I've managed to get this far in my blogging life without mentioning my nose?
No, I actually like my nose. I think it's rather nice.
It's my sense of smell that I am alternately grateful for and yet often drives me crazy. I have one of the most sensitive noses, ever. I can smell almost anything, even from very far away.
It is very upsetting to Hubba-hubba, as he can never get anything by me, if ya know what I mean.
At times, I rejoice in the fact that my olfactory senses let me revel deeply in a beautiful smell. I love softer scents for that very reason. Vanilla, almond, you get the picture. They wash over me and actually give me a bit of a buzz. And no, I don't walk around sniffing candles, thank you!
At other times, I hate the fact that I can smell cigarette smoke from what seems like miles away. I can be sitting in the car and smell cigarette smoke from someone two or three cars away. Other smells hit me the wrong way as well, and can actually make me nauseous. Artificial citrus and rose scents are "hard" and the worst offenders that come to mind.
I think perhaps the perfect job for me would be one of those special "sniffers" who work for perfumeries and the like. I wonder how they go about determining how sensitive a person's sense of smell is? I imagine a blindfolded person sitting at a table, and people in white lab coats waving vials of things under their nose. Yes, perfect! Now where do I sign up?
I actually thought that when I had Mr. Personality, that I would not be able to change his diapers. Or at the least, that I would have to put some kind of scarf or something over my nose each time. But, I was able to handle it just fine, and can only remember a couple of times where I thought I was going to pass out. Something even more primal than my sense of smell took over, and that is motherhood. Wonders never cease, do they?
Based on the completely underwhelming comment response, now I know exactly why I hadn't written about this topic before.