I have a smelly little secret.
You won't tell, will you? I knew I could count on you. It's not a big deal, really. Not like I'm Molly Shannon as Mary Katherine Gallagher, poking my fingers into my armpits when I'm nervous, and then sniffing them. No, I don't have halitosis, body odor, stinky feet, or feel less than fresh. I don't smell, as in give off a scent. I smell, as in inhale an aroma.
Oh, you might think I like to sniff out fresh-baked cookies, sun-dried sheets, a baby's scalp, honeysuckle on a fence row at dusk, or steaming blades of grass after a summer rain. But you would be incorrect. That's okay. We're all good at different things.
No, I like to take a good whiff of Vicks VapoRub every now and then.
That stuff opens up my nasal passages. It's soothing. Takes away the stuffiness. I stop short of slathering it on my chest. That's for colds. Hard-core congestion. This is just a hobby. A treat. Nor do I use Vicks to coat the bottom of my feet to draw out toxins overnight. That was one of my mom's suggestions. For my boys, not for me. Are you kidding? She looks out for me and offers to sit up all night with me when I'm sick, but the Vicks treatment is sorely lacking from our mother-daughter healing repertoire. Furthermore, I resist scooping out blobs of Vicks and swallowing them. That's what Hick says he used to do, at the urging of his father. Who knew? Guys have their own father-son healing repertoire.
Yes, I'm a Vicks sniffer. In moderation, of course. No need to stage an intervention, though I DO love to hear how much people value my presence on this earth. Which is not me fishing for compliments, just a statement of fact for the eventual 44 oz. Diet Coke intervention that looms on the horizon.
Now excuse me. I have a previous engagement with a squatty blue glass jar.
It does have addicting qualities but few side effects other than a strange craving for diet coke.
ReplyDeleteWell, thank the Gummi Mary that is doesn't require a prescription - yet!
ReplyDeleteWhew! I thought this was another post about knancy's underwear. Still, I haven't sniffed Vicks in a long time. Might have to join you in a bottle. C'mon we'd both fit!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE sniffing Vicks Vaporub. When I was a kid I even liked the taste of it.
ReplyDeleteA rose may not be able to hold a candle to certain scents, but my underwear (and bottom)hold the aromas of Gain detergent and Suave Cherry Blossom liquid soap, for your information - no sniffing allowed. But, I have other stories. Are you suggesting I don't start a blog of my own? Did you hear about the time my friend and I went to Kroger and ......
ReplyDeletejoeh,
ReplyDeleteThat is a brilliant deduction. Now, for your next case, what makes Val a weirdo magnet?
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knancy,
Don't get me started! I'm about ready to throw my two insurance cards out the window, for all the good they do me.
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Leenie,
I have not yet waxed upon knancy's underwear. She is the one who brought them to the table. I have enough problems with my own underwear, especially finding a hidden nook in this camera-happy surveillance world in which to pry them from the crevices where they imbed themselves all too often.
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Stephen,
Well, I suppose Vicks is like some wacky kind of chunky, reverse, nonalcoholic, beer. Instead of acquiring a taste for it, you lose your taste for it.
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knancy,
You seem to have confused me for someone called Leenie. And she, herself, is confused because this is not an underwear blog. That's just a happy accident. It's a mommyblog, catblog, Hickblog, eightdollardaughterblog, and, above all, a complaintblog.
I heartily support the launch of your own blog. Don't cost nothin'. I would follow you and your tales of foundation garments. Though not in a creepy stalker way.
I love the smell of rubber cement. Howboutchu ?
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI can honestly say, Madam, that the smell of rubber cement does not tempt me in the least. It's just too freaky, that lid with the build-in brush. Or is it in a rubber nozzle bottle? I am not up on my rubber cement packaging styles.
I do, however, enjoy tossing out that saying, "I'm rubber cement and you're glue. What you say...sticks to me...and can't bounce back at you." WAIT! Something has gone horribly wrong with that saying!