I have a smell thing. I am fairly certain it has something to do with my mom telling me she knew Tom was the one because he smelled right. If that is how it worked, then I would know the one by smell too. And I did!

When Stephen and I first started dating I was addicted to his smell. During dinner at his house I would inhale big, long whiffs of the napkins as I pretended to wipe my mouth (this is really  true). After we were married and returned from Missoula for holidays, I would look for reasons to do laundry daily if we happened to be staying with his parents just to have that smell again.

I have confessed this to them and although they think it is strange (and a little humorous), they still accept me--thank God 'cause I know it may seem a bit weird. And I still smell things. Mostly cheeks and sometimes hair, if it is clean. I have to smell Stephen, Henry, and Wyatt daily. I have to sniff their cheeks or I won't make it through the day (this sounds dramatic, but it is also true). I would liken it to heroin.

A few days ago, Wyatt was sitting next to me at the table and I went in for a quick sniff. However, I missed. I missed his cheek and instead sniffed up a huge, wet glob of snot hanging from his nose! Snot from his nose went into my nose--literally. It was so incredibility disgusting. I thought I might vomit. But it would have been more like a mama bird throwing up into her baby bird's mouth.

But this incident won't stop me. I have to smell them.  I have to! When I check on them in their beds tonight, I will smell them. When I kiss them goodbye at preschool tomorrow, I will smell them. When they leave for the prom in 13 years, I will smell them. Did I mention heroin?