Olfactory and Flatulenc(y)

It's official.

I can smell again.

The once trusted olfactories seem to be back in working order. 

How do I know?

Imagine this:  

Christmas Day.  

The entire family - mom, kids, grandparents ( and the dog ) -
          gathered around the kitchen table for a friendly game of "Apples to Apples".

The lights are low, and the holiday candles on the fireplace mantel are lit,
          casting a warm, soothing glow.

Matt Nathanson music is playing softly in the background on Pandora Radio. 

There are smiles, there is wit, there is laughter, there is . . .

"WHAT is that SMELL ? ? ?

That ODOR ? ? ?

That STENCH ? ? ?"  

Looking around the table of faces and possible culprits,
          the guilty party immediately confessed with a wicked display of laughter.

Quick on my feet ( and in a moment of desperation ),
     I strategically reached over and pulled a "Cooking Light" catalog out of the
magazine basket,
     and fanned the bad air away.

And, with a grimacing look on my face, I announced :

"I'm Cured !"  

I can definitely . . . . . . smell . . . . . . again.  

              

Through the Eyes of Innocence

In the spirit of Christmas, here is a short,
     sweet story that I pulled from the "archives" (slightly altered).

It was published in The Washington Post on December 16, 2006.

Please enjoy.     

-----------------------------------------------------------


 The time of day was dusk.
I was driving down a local, neighborhood street with my seven year old
     sitting quietly in the back seat.
The sky was crystal clear, and if I looked hard enough,
     I could just barely see the tip of the sun sneaking down behind the trees.  

Suddenly, as if by magic, the houses along the street began to light up.
One by one, the colors illuminated, and spread across the roof lines and trees. 
It was as if the people stood inside their homes,
     waiting . . . . . . as the sun dipped down into the sky,
and the darkness approached - waiting . . . . . . .
     for just the right moment to turn on the lights.

As I looked in the rear view mirror,
     I could see the whites of my son's eyes as he opened them wide,
taking in the magical sights around him.  

     "WOW!" he exclaimed, "THESE people must REALLY like Christmas!"

     "Why do you say that?" I asked.

And, with a look on his face that was just as SURE as SURE could be, he said,

     "Because they REALLY want to make sure that Santa sees their houses!"

 I smiled at my son, and silently thanked him for sharing his innocence.  

The Taste of Food

Taste.

I LOVE the TASTE of things.

Not just ANY "things".

For example, I can't STAND the taste of postage stamps. 

It was a HAPPY, HAPPY day when they invented self-adhesive ones.

And, there are certain medications that I don't much care for the taste of -  
       anything with codeine, most throat lozenges, and certain antibiotics that leave a metallic taste in my mouth. 

Too bad they don't come in a "self-adhesive" form, as well. 

More specifically, I love the taste of . . . . . . FOOD.

That IS why I like to EAT, after all.  

Well, I guess there is that "hunger" factor, too, but . . . . . . . 

     I genuinely ENJOY food.

I love the smells, and the colors, and the textures, but most of all -
                                      the FLAVORS. 

Lately, I have not been able to taste my food.


Due to my uninvited guests "Bronchitis" and "Sinusitis", who came to visit me in October,
     and have become "the guests that will never leave", 
I have not been able to taste anything in months. 

For example:

     Last night, I had leftover Chinese food for dinner, and couldn't taste a thing.

     This morning, I had a nonfat chai latte at Starbucks.

          It was nice and hot and soothing, but it had no flavor.

     For lunch today?  A bowl of seafood gumbo.

          Warm and . . . . . . .flavorless.

So, I walk away feeling dissatisfied, disappointed, and disheartened.    

And, I find myself eating only when my stomach tells me I'm hungry -
     eating things like yogurt for lunch, that I do not normally care for, but it is healthy,
quick and convenient,  and since I can't really taste anything, what difference does it make?  


I suppose this could be a good thing.

Maybe I will lose those 10 extra pounds that I have been carrying around, lately.

And, if there is a shortage on self-adhesive postage stamps,
     I should be able to just  LICK AWAY with NO PROBLEM!

Of course, I can't stand the "feeling" of anything paper on my tongue
     ( kind of like nails on a chalkboard ),
so unless my sense of feeling goes away, as well,
     I am still going to need those self-adhesive ones.

Perfect ending to this blog?

My fifteen year old son just walked in the room and asked,

     "What smells?"

To which, I responded,

     "I don't know.  I can't smell a thing."