I was sitting outside enjoying a frozen custard with my daughter this afternoon. We were behind Sandy’s and two cars pulled up to the curb next to us. Both cars had Little Trees air fresheners, one yellow (I guess lemon) and one red (but it wasn’t cherry).
And we were enjoying a sweet moment together all of us. The crummy speakers at the back of the restaurant were putting out hits of the 80’s, the weather was so summery, except it was only mid-eighties and not mid-hundreds. And the car with the red Little Tree had it’s windows cracked about 4 inches. Even though we were a good 15 feet away, I could not escape the pungent wreak somehow still wafting out the cracked windows and messing up my vanilla custard.
I was a bit stunned. I have been known to have a sensitive nose for things like perfumes and potpourri. But we were outside, a light breeze on an all but perfect Sunday afternoon, and the smell of a gas station men’s room was right there with us.
I didn’t mention it to my daughter. No need in joining her in my frustration. I made a mental note, and let my mind focus on something else as my daughter started asking questions about the grackles and where they lived and how they might talk through holes in the electric wires they stand on.
It really was a perfect moment. As we sat there talking about the bird’s communication techniques I noticed three more cars in line to get burgers or ice cream with the little stinky danglers hanging from their rear view mirror.
As my daughter and I got back in our car, I noticed the lack of perfume smell. Maybe a little hint of 3-year old leather seats, but then we haven’t hit the heat yet.
The Off Parent