I smell my baby. I mean, really sniff him up.
He is, literally, the most delicious-smelling human being I have every had the pleasure of smelling. And it’s not that cute, soft baby smell anymore. He outgrew that lovely smell about half a year ago. Now he smells like ripe peaches and warm vanilla cake. And this is totally and completely Oliver’s thing. Milo smells fine. Always has. But he just smells like everyone else. A little sweaty sometimes, best after a good scrubbing, sometimes sweet like bananas if he just ate one. You know, normal.
But Oliver exudes yumminess. I don’t know what he is made of. Something delightful.
Last week, I returned from THE trip to the grocery store (you know, the one where you have to completely restock your pantry and refrigerator after a long trip) and placed all of my bags on the floor in front of the refrigerator as is standard after any shopping trip. I deposited Oliver there beside them as I ran back out to the car to retrieve the rest of our loot. When I returned, Oliver was rooting through the bag that contained all of the produce. Fine, I thought, that should keep him occupied while I put all the perishables away. Dude helped himself. To a potato. Not that tasty raw, I hear. Moving on to a peach, he took a huge bite. I assume. Because in the time it took me to put some fish, veggies, milk, eggs and fruit into the refrigerator, Oliver had completely devoured an entire peach, including the stem and luckily excluding the pit. He was COVERED in peach juice, pulp, and little bits of peach skin. Camera was not nearby- unable to document the destruction. But…
This week, I simply handed him that peach.
Because maybe that lovely Oliver smell comes from a bit of peach-thievery?
Now if you ever visit us, you will understand the sticky floor situation that is perpetual around here
Don’t blame me.