Mom Diaries: The Mothership Is Calling

I dropped my car off for an oil change today and called my mom to come pick me up while the car was being serviced. As I slid into her passenger seat, I remarked that it smelled really good in her car. 

"Oh, it's that thing," she said pointing to a deodorizer clipped to the passenger seat visor. 

I was surprised, as I'm not usually a fan of any fake scent smelling product. (Glade plug-ins are evil and should be destroyed.) "Where'd you get it?" I asked. 

"From the mothership," she said. At my quizzical glance she added, "Bath & Body Works."

I had to laugh. My mom loves her scented lotions, soaps and candles. Me, I can't even walk by the store in a mall without holding my breath. I'm extremely sensitive to smell. This makes for a friendly on-going battle with mom over what smells good and what doesn't. Mom insists on filling her home with scents and I persist in telling her I can't breathe every time I go over to her house. Poor Blair gets caught in the middle with me demanding he back me up that the house smells like someone knocked over a bottle of perfume and mom insisting I'm making the whole thing up because she knew I was coming over and put all the scented stuff away. 

The other night we took Mom out for Chinese and when she got in the car she said, "Your perfume is really strong tonight." 

I panicked. I never want to be one of those women you can smell coming from a block away. "It is? Really? I just put a little bit on my wrists." I glared at Blair. "Why did you let me leave the house like this? Why didn't you say something?"

"I'm just kidding," said Mom. "I just wanted you to see how it felt."

That woman is getting mean in her old age.

Cheers,

Dena