You might not always remember a scent of a woman...but you can never forget the scent of your mother.
Wouldn't necessarily trust my assessments of myself as a child. There is a perfectly good chance I was more popular than I remember. And maybe I was a bit less awkward than I thought too. I was never the kind of girl who spent much time dressing up and looking in mirrors...so when I try and picture myself as a child, all I can conjure up is a small blur.
If I were to tell you what I was like at 6 or 10 or 17, you should probably take it with a grain of salt. I am an unreliable source...but when it comes to my mother, I am a great authority.
Whenever I say may seem like a wild exaggeration but it is in fact completely and utterly true...as a child I was a scholar on the subject of my mother. I studied her. I memorized her while she washed our clothes, cooked our foods and do household chores.
I was madly in love with her. I was just extremely lucky for getting to stand so close...up close you could smell her scent. I had a weakness for sticking my head in my mother...and then breathing in her scent.
Too many sad memories...yes, there were some difficult years, but to my mind the scent of my mother made it easier and brighter...
