Losing my sense
It seems I’ve lost my sense of smell.
Since entering my 30s seven years ago, I’ve been aware that it hasn’t been as keen as it was previously. And over the last few months, it’s deteriorated further. This evening, I suddenly figured that I couldn’t smell the lamb roasting away in the oven. So I opened the oven: nothing. So I stuck my face unashamedly into a coffee jar: nada. My mum lost hers when she was older than I am now. And for some time after that it used to resurface for a few moments, during which time she’d dash around the house hunting coffee, chocolate, flowers, candles to breathe in.
If it were another sense that had gone, I’d probably be eligible for an orange badge for my car (if I had one) and I’d be able to park slap bang in front of stores. But it’s not. So I’ll have to take my daughter shopping with me and take advantage of the parent bays instead.