MY SIGNATURE SCENT: "Oh Mumma"

Today, I introduce to you my new signature scent.

Step aside Chanel No 5, for it is with great pride I am about to launch the oh so divine scent of 2019, “Oh Mumma”.

Oh indeed.

Along with my team, I have tried to bottle the strains of my children’s laughter, savour the sight of their chubby cheeks and contain the contented gurgle of their love.

However, what actually seems to follow me around is the following.

Here is what my ACTUAL signature scent contains traces of :

Simmering bolognaise : The stink of browning mince and a red dollop of whatever sauce is on special at the supermarket lingers throughout the house. It attaches itself tightly to the curtains and hangs on to my clothes well into the next day. Given this meal is on constant repeat in this house, it is forever thick on my skin.
Fermented yoghurt : (or simply milk in the earlier baby years on every item of clothing you own.) The tub is eaten and coaxed in to the bin. But yet…a mysterious dollop fell on the kitchen floor, was smooshed between the floorboards for eternity by a tiny foot and haunts me as I crawl up and down the floors looking for the source of the sour stench.
Playdough : Looking for a bitter, toxic, plastic smell to heighten your perfume? This odour even comes with a bonus layer of film that will cover your hands all day long.
Squished bananas : Fruity notes accompany this scent. The waft of partially eaten banana is especially pungent from the backseat of the car.
Wee : Sorry, but anyone with kids knows that this smell is permanently up your nose. Even when they have left the nappy stage (and I cannot even go there!), there is always a misty wee scent that emenates from the toilet floor. Clearly direction and impatience is a requirement for the creation of this. Bucket loads of that in this household.
The mystery scent : I spend my life sniffing. I walk in to a room and sniff, trying to identify that mystery stink. I empty a school bag and sniff, trying to work out what morsel of food has been squished in its lining. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. All day long.
Bottoms :I sniff the air to try to identify that horrific stink, only to met with peals of laughter and the admission of a pop off. Comedians.
Out of date sausages : If snags are not your bag, this can be replaced with any perishable food items. As you stand motionless in front of an open fridge, waiting for dinner inspiration to strike, I smell everything. What is that rancid smell in here? Finally I discover something like a tiny piece of watermelon that is wedged under the cucumber in the corner that is now furry. A tiny treasure hunt, really.
Dry Shampoo and hefty sprays of deodorant : To complete this bouquet, one cannot forget the scent that permanently wafts from my own body. With a dry sprinkling of emergency ‘no time to shower’ powder cascading from my hair, I rush back in to the bathroom for another quick spray of deodorant…possibly to cover up all the aforementioned smells before I leave the house. This is the powerful ribbon that ties ‘Oh Mumma’ all together.