Gee, Your Hair Smells

Let's just preface this with a fact: I took a shower last night, and washed my hair. OK? OK.

When I was in high school, I worked at an ice cream parlor in which we made our own waffle cones. Because I am One Who Is Responsible, I think it was most often me who noticed that we were down to our last box of cones and would make more. I made a lot of waffle cones. So many, that the smell of waffle cones was positively inculcated into my hair and skin. Even during swim season, the smell of waffle cones wafted around me. I'd walk into someplace, sit down, and the person next to me would sniff in my direction and say something like, "wow, you smell great!"

Just now, I brought the phone up to my ear to call my mom to tell her about my frustrating morning. My hand dislodged the hair that was behind my ear and it fell into my face, and I smelled it. It did not smell like waffle cones. It smelled like baby yak.

The thing is, Nora didn't throw up on me this morning; it's just the way I smell.