The Smell

Sleepy and tired I backed my truck out of the garage and onto the street for a fun-filled adventurous day at work. While cranking my neck around to be certain no one was bellowing down our street, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, something brown and furry. It was a monkey! No, not a real monkey, but Carter's favorite stuffed animal monkey.

He was lying in the back seat floor all crumpled up and looking at me with the big, dark brown eyes. So as I was scooping him up to sit him upright, I suddenly remember just how soft he felt. I stared at him for what seemed like minutes with his little head all cocked to one side displaying a big ole monkey smile.

It was touching, really. I felt moved by memories of this animal being bought by Carter's big sister, Bailey, with her very own money (she thinks it was only a dollar - shhh) and how it sat in the rocking chair of his room for months until he was old enough to have something in his baby bed with him. I can see him now chewing on it's nose and holding it in his sleep with his tiny hands just gently, but firmly, holding the soft fur.

I put the stuff animal to my face to feel the softness once more and I noticed more than a physical feeling, I felt something more. A smell came from it. Now don't get me wrong, it was not a smell of baby powder or butternut lotion or lavender - it was puke. Yup, straight-up baby vomit. No matter. It could have been poo. But it wasn't the smell that was so wonderful, it was "knowing" the smell. I can recognize my own son's spit-up odor. It was great!

So I sat the monkey up in the front seat with me and we drove to work... together. He watched me drive and I looked at him often to see my son sitting there beside me. I miss you, Carter!