This is the "hello" I received as my two youngest hopped into the car to escape being dampened during the four foot walk from the school bus. Normally, I just walk across the street to escort them home. Normally, as in- not experiencing gales that broke my wet-weather confidence, flipped my hardy umbrella inside out, spanked us both and sent me scrambling back for car keys. The odd and somewhat humiliating piece of this generous act of kindness on my part was the rapid deceleration of winds and the slowing of pelting rain to a gentle drizzle by the bus's arrival. After deflating their excited expectation of going to a store or fast-food restaurant, the focus shifted back to the car's unfamiliar scent.
"Why it's Pumpkin Bliss, of course!" I declared proudly. Their unimpressed "oh" wasn't my desired response. During my purchase of the orange packaged car freshener, displaying pumpkins, cinnamon, and colors of candy corn, I envisioned tv commercial actors deeply inhaling wafts of heart-warming, homemade Pumpkin Pies. Yes, my reward for spending $3.99 +tax would be watching my children breathe in the likeness of those cinnamon fall treats followed by twinkles of delight, shining in their grateful eyes. I must admit I did not notice any trace of pumpkin pie or harvest spices in the bought essence. If I covered one nostril and sort of breathed out while half-breathing in I might have been able to justify the colors of candy corn...kind of. But, for the purpose of pride, I declared once more with gusto, "It's Pumpkin Bliss!" and drove back around the bend to our house.
An hour later I agreed to drive my oldest daughter to her friend's house. "WHAT is that smell?!?" she asked, while lifting a genteel palm to her nose. "It's Pumpkin Bliss!," came my triumphant, yet wavering response. After all, it was her calling attention to the car's mild odor the day before which prompted my aquiring such Fall freshness. Show me some love, I think as she blurts out, "It smells like yogurt." I covered my waning hope with a smile, "That's funny! That's what the kids said!," I weakly offered. Her eyes slid sideways towards me as she added, "Rotten yogurt." I began to think back to my attempts of choosing between the store's two offered scents. Vanilla and Cream's scratch and sniff declared it NOT the winner. And...wait a minute...that's funny...three Pumpkin Bliss in a row don't have a scratchy piece of plastic to test? How odd, I think as I dig through the entire stock...not a one. Hmmmm....perhaps I should be suspicious? Well, it IS raining out and I really don't want to go to another store soooooo...we'll go with- you guessed it, Pumpkin Bliss. Til I get in the car and realize it's more like Butterscotch Feet. I guess I shouldn't be shocked by my children's underwhelmed reaction.
Another 15 minutes go by before my second eldest daughter chimes in during her ride home from school. The dramatic question passes through lips curled in disgust, "What smells like SWEAT in here??" Siiiiigh... by this point I can't even muster a jolly declaration so it comes out more like a question, "Pumpkin Bliss?" "Eeeeew, it doesn't smell anything like pumpkins!," is her gauntlet tossed on my defeated purchasing prowess. "Look here!, I begin my defense, "I saw pumpkins and candy corn and thought it would be festive with Thanksgiving coming up AND I paid for it so we are USING it!" "Eeeew," seems to be her best come-back. Then I just could not help myself and had to know, "So you really don't think it smells like butterscotch feet?" Just as swiftly as the wind had died down, my white flag rose and the stink became casual conversation. "Ummmm no, I think it smells more like sweat, but kinda like a vanilla-y sweat. But I get why the other kids smell yogurt." I can't believe I'm nodding my head in agreement to this...siiiigh.
It's been a solid week of scent that never fails to "surprise" us each time the car doors are whipped open and the aroma wafts out. It never gets old and doesn't seem to be ebbing in strength. I've circled Thanksgiving's date on my calendar to count the number days I must be strong until a "certain purchase" goes missing on garbage day. I already have it's replacement stashed deep in the cupboard to conceal my defeat. It's Frosted Pine. Hey! Save your judgement...it had pictures of snow covered pine trees and a lovely holiday gold...right above a white convertible with it's...OH NO...how did I not see it's... top down??? In winter???
Oh well, I already bought it...
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