When you have four young kids, your life is an endurance test. Each day you feed, clean and care for your offspring so that you can be awarded the grand prize at nightfall of no longer having to answer any kid questions while you relax on the couch watching your favorite shows.
You rarely (if ever) spend a day meandering through the city laughing, holding hands, putting your head on his shoulder as you sit side by side in an early afternoon movie.
It’s never just the two of you in a candy store, him staring at you in loving disbelief as you fill a bag with malted milk balls, sour patch kids, gummy coca colas and candy corns, wondering how you can eat such dreck.
You no longer wander around Pottery Barn, pointing out your favorite things to place in an imaginary house that you may some day build together.
You have a house. Together. It’s filled with sh*t from Pottery Barn. And it’s a mess.
You don’t have long, enchanting days together. Instead, you have small romantic moments. Moments that remind you of your love and appreciation for each other.
And just the other day, during a small respite, when my twins were napping, my daughter Dylan was taping, gluing and cutting some kind of card that would strongly resemble a ransom note and my daughter Summer was finding new ways to distribute glitter throughout the playroom, my husband and I found ourselves alone in the kitchen.
A moment for just the two of us.
He wrapped his arms around me and said, “You smell so nice.”
What a sweet thing for him to say.
Maybe it was my freshly washed skin. Or a hint of my perfume. Or the grapefruit essence of my shampoo.
Except I hadn’t yet showered that morning. “Order perfume” has sat idly on my to do list for months. And I hadn’t washed my hair in a couple, well, several, well, let’s just say, quite a few days.
“Honey, smell the counter tops,” I said. “Is that what you are smelling?”
Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day counter top spray in geranium scent.
It’s apparently the new scent of romance and love.