It's official.
I can smell again.
The once trusted olfactories seem to be back in working order.
How do I know?
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 . . .
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 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.
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