When I was little, I had this Strawberry Shortcake horse named Maple Stirrup that stunk like nobody’s business. I think I may have gotten high from brushing her smelly mane once, she was so aromatic.
Normally, I was a huge fan of the stench of those dolls. I got in trouble once when I brought Mint Tulip to school because I kept sniffing her pet duck all day. Lime Chiffon, Apple Dumpling, Strawberry herself—all joys to the nose. But that damn horse…
I’m just not a fan of the smell of maple. I don’t even enjoy syrup on my pancakes or my French toast. So when I realized I had accidentally purchased maple instant oatmeal instead of cinnamon at my beloved Trader Joe’s, I thought, “Ahhhh!" followed by, "I can handle this. I can expand my horizons after all these years.” I put blueberries on my oatmeal anyway, so I was sort of hoping their flavor would drown out the mapleness.
This morning I had the brilliant idea of trying to filter the sugar/maple dust from the packet as I sprinkled it into my bowl…and now my hands have smelled like freaking maple all day. No joke, I’ve washed them like 4 times and my right one still smells like Mrs. Butterworth.
Tonight I will go home and soak my hand in turpentine.