Home

Home smells like the people I love.

Home smells like sweet and tangy cigarette smoke. The smell that filled the rooms of my aunt’s Victorian home.

Home smells like Colombian coffee with a splash of milk and exactly two Sweet N’ Low sugars. The cup of joe my dad had every morning.

Home smells like Lemon flavored Snapple tea and Noxema face lotion. The two scents that meant my mom had just finished a long day of housework and was relaxing in the living room.

Home smells like Vanilla Bean Noel Bath and Body Works spray. The body spray my sister doused herself in everyday before work.

Home smells like Polo aftershave and too much axe body spray. The ones from the Christmas gift sets that fueled my brother’s hygiene routine.

Home smells like baby Desitin and spilled grape juice. The smells that constantly filled the house when my niece came to visit.

Home is not the glade scents used to mask the odor of the people in it. Home is the scent that evokes a memory years later and leaves a smile dancing on my lips. Home is being able to tell who is going to turn the corner based on the scent that precedes the person.

I can only hope that my scent defines someone else’s home, hopefully for the people that define home for me.