I'm not kidding if I had this perfume I would be sitting in the corner sniffing at it like a crackwhore.
Top Favorite Smells
Freshly cut wood: I adore the smell of the Home Depot wood area. Husband is very handy at home. The heady combination of cut wood and him building manly things is better than a porno. I love the smell of cut wood so much that when I was pregnant (and unknowingly entering pre-eclampsyia madness) I begged my husband to let me take a nap in the lumber section of the store. We went to the doctor the next day and I was taken for observation. (For the pregnancy, the madness came after the children.)
Bleach: Husband's father and I are kindred spirits. If it smells like bleach it must be clean. And if it's clean then we can relax.
Chlorine: God chlorine. That smell brings back an adolescence spent hanging at the pool. Maple Hill Recreation Corporation was an outdoor pool that kept its dues low by allowing members to provide upkeep, gardening and repairs in lieu of a portion of their yearly rate. As a result the repairs were often slapdash and accidents happened. The shower floors would be painted in a glossy paint that caused everyone to wipe out on their wet ass. Or more notably, the Pool Manger (or Assistant Manager if the PM had wised up) would be put in charge of upkeep on the chlorine tanks. Once a year, The PM would inevitably stumble up the stairs and promptly pass out from a chlorine leak. The ambulance would be called and tradition upheld. When I walk into a hotel the first thing I want to do is find and smell the pool. Sniff. Ahhhhhhhh.
Dial Soap: This gets a little weird. When I was in grade school I became a little obsessed with the smell of Dial Soap (generic won't do). My sister recalls that before bed I would wash my hands, lie down and sniff the hell out of my fingertips just like that odd Catholic girl on SNL. When sister went to the bathroom I would insist that she let me smell her hands to make sure she washed them (she was always trying not to). In fact I still kinda do that to my son. Is it wrong? I still have to sniff a new bar for a couple minutes before I'll set it in the shower. God help me if I've just cleaned the tub with bleach.
What are your strange smell fixations? Or am I so very alone in this?
And can we just take it as a given that all of us go weak at the knees at the smell of our babies heads, secretly dig the smell of our own farts, and get our panties wet if we get a wiff of the cologne the first guy we mashed with was wearing (Drakkar Noir)