That Sweet, Sweet Smell

There is no sweeter smell in the world than a little baby's head, face, and neck. All I did for nine whole days in Atlanta was nuzzle Liam's neck, kiss his fingers, and chew on his baby-feet. Like all human beings, he has his own smell. Whether that little head is freshly washed or sweaty from sleep, his distinct fragrance comes through. Blindfold me and put me in a roomful of babies, and I could pick out GrandBoy.

I could (and still can) do the same for Daughter. Whether a dancing 8-year-old, a sleepy 17-year-old, or a busy 27-year-old mama, she's still that infant in my arms whenever I catch a hint of her baby-smell. I could find her in a sea of humanity if I had to by her scent alone (and I'm not talking her shampoo/perfume).

Is everyone as smell-centric as I am? I have always been accused of having an acute sense of smell, whether busting Step-daughter smoking outside at 3am, the smell of which would wake me from a dead-sleep, or getting the first whiffs of burning wires or a gas leak. Well, maybe not everybody has that gift - though sometimes it's not such a gift - so maybe folks miss out on the sweet baby smells (versus the not-so-sweet baby smells).

Anyway, Sweet Liam, I have your unique smell locked into this nose of mine. Even when you're grown with big stinky man-feet, I'll know how to find you by your sweet baby smell.