In spite of residual exhaustion from Thanksgiving and a pending 8,000 words to write in three days, we managed to put up the Christmas tree on Sunday.
Afterward, Joe and I were enjoying how wonderful the house smelled with the fresh tree taking up a third of the dining room. I spotted Elle setting up her little fences for the miniature animals downstairs, and invited her to come smell the tree.
It sounds like an odd request, but Elle tends to smell everything. She has inherited a super sense of smell from her grandmother, and she's always on alert for anything she should avoid. If I touch her arm with a freshly washed, damp hand, she twists around trying to sniff her elbow just in case. She inspects feet, the cat, the fireplace, and obviously, everything she is expected to eat. She declares everything to be either the yummiest or stinkiest thing she has ever smelled.
When she was asked to check out the tree, she jumped up immediately. "Oooh," she squealed excitedly at the promise of a good smell.
"Will it be ice cream or bubble gum?"
Joe and I were laughing to hard to watch her, but surely she scrunched her face up as usual and stuck it right up close to the needles. The tree seemed to confuse her usual rating system, being neither yummy nor stinky. She said she liked it, and I offered her a new description.
It smells like Christmas.
Gems worth Re-Reading
About Growing Baby Doing Good Together Elliot Rose Family Rituals Fie Flora and Fauna For the Love of Learning Greenish In My Opinion Just for Laughs Just for Me Making Tinkles Maya Mindfulness Mmm... So Tastey NaNoWriMo News of the Day Noveling Photo Friday Sewing Sisterly Love Sweet Dreams The Chicken Ladies the end Tonsils We like to Move It Move It Wonderment