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It breaks my heart to say it, but I believe my wife has a serious problem. It’s a delicate issue that falls somewhere between compulsive addiction and full-fledged pyromania. It’s an inexplicable, incomprehensible, incessant inclination I cannot begin to understand.
Let me describe her bewildering behavior as clearly as possible. My bride has an unnatural, unhealthy, unrelenting obsession with what can only be described as the bane of my existence. I’m talking about………. SCENTED CANDLES!!!
WOW! Just one wafting whiff and I’m wheezy, woozy, and whiney!
Unfortunately for me, she buys them by the gross and strategically places them in every corner of the house. That means our domicile is completely devoid of fresh air. Consequently, because her fragrance infatuation is hopelessly out of control, my spouse feels compelled to purchase every scent available.
I find it quite sad that I am more than familiar with her perfumed preferences. However, for the sake of brevity, I will only inflict my readers with a partial list, which includes the following:
Lavender, Citrus, Sage, Jasmine, Eucalyptus, Tangerine, Butter Apple, Lilac, Cinnamon, Vanilla, Caramel, Rose, Cactus Blossom, Lemon, Ginger, Sweet Orange, Spearmint, Peppermint, Pineapple, Magnolia, Sweet Pea, Musk, Amber, Coconut, Frankincense, and Sandalwood.
Please pause, and take a breath………. Okay, continue.
Blueberry, Strawberry, Boysenberry, Gooseberry, Blackberry, Mulberry, Cranberry, Elderberry, Raspberry, Huckleberry (apparently you can never have enough berries), also Ocean Breeze, and its close competitor Ocean Mist. (I find both of them slightly ironic, considering we live at least a thousand miles from the nearest ocean.) And, of course, there is my bride’s perennial personal favorite, Periwinkle Passion.
GOOD LORD! Our house can’t smell THAT BAD!
Now, I am willing to admit that between the dog, the cat, and me, there can occasionally be a few fleeting flashes of fluctuating, funky foulness. Hey, life happens, and that includes pungent puddles and piles. (I’m talking about the pets – not me.)
But do we really need dozens and dozens of competing scents to hide the supposed sickening stench that my wife imagines we are sucking in with every breath? It seems a little like overkill to me.
While it is a fact that my bride’s cooking occasionally leaves an odious aroma lingering in the air that sometimes borders on being repulsive, I doubt we would succumb to lethal toxic fumes if we were to forego the so-called “lovely bouquet” that she believes must permeate every square inch of our home.
As my spouse – giddy with anticipation – runs from room to room, lighting candles in her never-ending quest to create the perfect ambiance for calming, comfortable contentment, it almost makes me afraid to fart………. ALMOST.
Marital Madness 