Scents of Motherhood

PB: Mom!

[Pause]

PB: Mommy!

She talks quietly, yet insistently to be heard in the darkened room in which I was having a deep conversation on the telephone.

She usually would not interrupt.

She knows not to interrupt.

It must be important.

PB: Mom.

[Pausing my conversation]

Me: Yes?

[Simply]PB: I smell like you.

She smiles happily, content that her message was relayed.

Me: What?

PB: I smell like your scent. I used your shampoo and conditioner and soap in the shower and now I smell like you.

She luxuriates in the smell of her wet hair put to her nose and breathes it in.

I smile.

I immediately remember my mom's smell.

I used to love to nuzzle her neck. Distinctive. Only my mom smelled that way.

So comforting. So peaceful. I had forgotten.

And now? My PB was taking the same comfort. The same pleasure in smelling like me.

So sweet that I didn't even chide her for interrupting.

Memories.

I wish I could smell my mom right now...

Many thx for flick pic by Arlette

'lisciously scribed by Heather Murphy-Raines @ 9:15 AM