For Father’s Day, no don’t panic, it isn’t until 16th June. Mary is planning on buying me some aftershave. No, let’s be posh, eau de toilette. No, I’m not posh, some smelly stuff to slap on my chops. In order to choose the right one as a surprise, well maybe not such a surprise, Mary asked the staff at Superdrug. That’s right we use only the highest-class shops. She asked them to spray samples of a few possible scents on cards. These cards came home into my bedroom, come lounge, come everything room (see my blog “Bedroom, dining room, lounge, toilet”) where I smelt them to see which I liked. Having selected three, we visited the shop to have those three sprayed onto my skin. We then travelled on to the Cleve Spa. I don’t know what the staff thought when serving me coffee. Probably something like:
“Wow! Mike smells amazing.”
Or possibly more likely:
“Why does it suddenly smell like a Turkish boudoir in here?”
Either way the coffee shop certainly smelt very different around where I sat. The three scents wafted around on the warm air. I was sitting in the conservatory and the door was open. A few people said hello, I’d like to think it’s because of the scent. But they were probably just friendly.
While at the Spa Mary and I were trying to decide which of the three scents was best. One problem, we both forgot where they had sprayed them. Was it inside or outside my arms and the back of which Hand? We must have looked very funny taking turns sniffing my arms and hands. At one point Mary inhaled deeply then said, “no, that was just sweat.”
On our return home, it being a warm day and the scented cards being left in my room, we were hit by a wall of scent. I am very curious what my carers tomorrow will say. I’ve been in this room for several hours and the smell is still overpowering. Walking in fresh I expect they will either be knocked backwards out of the door or pass out in a faint. They will certainly be in for a surprise, not necessarily a good one. Whether they will be in a fit state to do any work remains to be seen.
Scent is a very dangerous thing. Mind you anyone who ever watched a Lynx advert knows that. After shave can cause hoards of women to chase you down the street. Not that I am influenced by advertising.
Smells are an odd thing. We tend to think only unpleasant smells are objectionable. There are certainly plenty of unpleasant smells in a room that plays as many functions as mine, including as my toilet. But even nice smells can be unpleasant in volume. I can think of many occasions where people have been so generous with their shower gel that the scent of it winds you. Then there are the people who use so much scented talc it literally sucks the air from your lungs. What about those who think perfume only works when a whole bottle is applied or the person who thinks deodorant sprays must be applied for ten minutes at a time. I think we all know such people. Maybe I have embarrassed you into realising one of those descriptions fits you, sorry.
Back to Father’s Day. I only want to mention it twice to make sure it isn’t forgotten. Anyone would think I’m a Father. Oh yes, I am. I’m going to bring in the obligatory statement everyone makes these days. Father’s Day can apply to any significant male figure in your life and if you only have negative male figures in your life, I am sorry to hear that. I also realise for those whose Dads are no longer around it’s a difficult time. I’m saying all this and it’s still a few weeks away. That was such a long statement I nearly forgot what I was saying.
The fragrance was chosen from the three, spray tested on my body and will no doubt be bought. But that of course will be a complete surprise to me. So, I wait with baited nose for my present. Meanwhile I am trying to get to sleep with a rather strong smell of several after shaves in the air.
This morning I called Mary down as usual to help me on the commode. For some reason she laughed when I told her my latest blog was called “A fragrant offering.” I can’t think what smell make her think that was funny.
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