Is it Saturday yet?

At home this morning, Julia asks “Dad, what’s that stuff on your dresser?”

“What stuff?”

“The gold stuff.”

“What gold stuff?”

“The gold stuff in the bottle.”

“Oh. It’s cologne.”

“What’s cologne?”

“…it’s like perfume for boys,” Sam chimes in.

—-

Later that morning, in the kitchen at work…

“You smell good.”

“It’s the Pop-Tarts. It’s the smell of being eight years old, getting up early on a Saturday morning, no one else is awake, cartoons aren’t on yet, standing in the kitchen waiting for the toaster to pop up.”

See, if Calvin Klein would just make a cologne that smelled like Pop-Tarts . . . that’d be the ultimate.

Man. Those Saturday mornings, back when I was eight . . . those were the best.