Friday, July 31, 2009

Sniffing dead moles and other childhood habits

So I like to smell things – flowers as I’m walking down the street or through the woods, the aroma of yummies in the oven, the air after a spring rain, rubber cement, whiteout … all the normal things. Some people tell me I have a problem, but I don’t feel that just because I make mistakes on purpose so I can white them out means I have a problem. I just really enjoy delectable smells, which happens to include lots of office and lab supplies. And before you really start to judge me, I’d just like to clarify that I am NOT a paste eater; some things are just wrong.

I think it goes without saying that this is in no way my fault. I didn’t choose to be “That Girl” who automatically smells the sharpie or whiteboard marker every time she takes the cap off. I don’t really even like the smell of sharpies and white board markers, they make me a little queasy. But when I started the first grade, the first thing I was given to put in my desk was a set of Mr. Sketch markers. Now these markers may be the best things ever invented, but they are also the root of my odor fixation. Who gives a 6 year old a set of 12 scented markers – which, as being scented in the first place, are obviously supposed to be sniffed – and doesn’t expect them to graduate from first grade without a huffing problem? And, at the same time, we’re taking art classes that involve lots of gluing. Now at my school, we didn’t use that pansy Elmer’s nonsense; we used the real stuff – rubber cement. Rubber cement is quite possibly still my favorite smell, and it’s no wonder to me why you get carded when you try to buy it these days. It’s like getting mad at people for trying to get rid of prairie dogs – you can’t put a Whack-a-Mole game in every Chuck E Cheese’s, Showbiz Pizza, and arcade across the country, and not expect people to want to whack prairie dogs in any way possible. It’s conditioned into our being at a young age. But as for me, Mr. Sketch smells way better than whacked prairie dog.