do you believe in love

February 24, 2011

There's this smell.

It might just be the best smell I've ever smelled. It smells like fresh cut strawberries and snuggly fuzzies and skin and air and breath all mixed together but mostly like strawberries. Ok, really just like strawberries. That other stuff is probably just my imagination. Who am I kidding with this crap?

I've been buying the Jude strawberries the past few weeks because he loves to munch on fresh fruits and veggies and they're a decent price. I can dice up a whole flop of them and he'll sit on his bench and crush through the entire pile. Afterwards he sits on my lap with his pink little strawberry mouth and gives me kisses, and I put my face by his head and breathe in the smell, the very best smell. Right between his ear and his hair and his neck it smells like warm and soft and clean like sweet fresh cream.

Somehow it smells even better than actual strawberries. I've never snarfed my face down into a bowl of strawberries just for a whiff, but somehow the smell is like strawberries on crack wearing diamond bikinis. I need more, MORE SMELL. I need to bottle it up so I can paw it desperately into my eyeballs. I'm going to start rubbing strawberries in his face while he's sleeping.

Hush now, the Jude, let me just apply your smell-makers. Mommy needs her medicine...

It's 10:14, do you know where your toddler is?

You fuckers, I don't even like strawberry smell. How'd you trick me into this?!
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