Thanksgiving and Vicks

It's that wonderful time of year again, filled with ever-changing leaves, crisp fall air and heaps of mashed potatoes and gravy. Ahh Thanksgiving.

7am.

I am rushing between half baked pies and my laptop, trying to remember every word of a sentence I came up with for a novel I'm working on, all while slicing apples and keeping the kids busy. And by keeping the kids busy, of course I mean my son crying because his little sister has covered his nice dress clothes in flour. "See Mommy? I baking!"


I glance longingly at my computer knowing that it will sit untouched until the holiday is over.


"Mom!" my son is pulling on my arm. "There's smoke coming from the oven!" He begins to run around the house screaming "fire!" at the top of his lungs. "Fire! Fire!"

Of course, there is no fire, just smoldering cherry pie filling at the bottom of the oven. Now my daughter is jumping up and down yelling too.

7:22 am.


"Yes, that's it!" I quickly type in the last words in the chapter. Relief.


I finish up the remaining two pies, and carefully slide them into the smoking oven. I look down to find my daughter snoring peacefully under the kitchen table, hands, face and dress covered in flour. After washing the last of the unbelievably gooey white stuff from her face, I lay her down and cross my fingers that the peaceful slumber will last longer than ten minutes. Tip toeing out of the room, I begin clean up duty, throw in some last minute laundry, and quietly slide into my chair. At last, a few minutes to relieve my brain of the next chapter slowly building in my head.

7:45 am.

"Mommm!!" My son's shrieking stops me in mid sentence. Then suddenly, he just laughs.

Thinking he's pulling my chain, which he often does, I go back to writing.



After about ten minutes of silence, I look up from my computer, suspicious. I get up slowly to have a look around. I look in on my son, who is busy scrubbing flour from his hair and clothes. "Hi Mom!"

Suddenly, this scent hits my nostrils. Not a bad scent. It's kind of nice, and sort of familiar. Is that Lavender? Yes, definitely. Then my mind wanders to how wonderful lavender is, and how I used to have this great lotion with lavender, and matching soap....wait a minute! Another scent enters my nose as I near my daughter's room. This one is familiar as well. I stop in my tracks.

Nnnooooooo! I walk as if in slow motion closer to my daughter's room. The scent is stronger.


"Vicks!"

"Wha-how-did you....Vicks!"

"Mommy look, lips pretty!"

"Oh my....!!" Vicks everywhere. Hands, hair, face, clothes and furniture. Lavender scented baby Vicks.

"Mommy look!" "I beautiful!" my daughter cries with delight as she continues to rub the goo round and round on her cheeks.

I look at my watch. 8:15. Yup, pies are black by now. I sigh, wondering if I can still make it to Wal-Mart in time to pick up a couple of Mrs. Smiths, throw them in the oven and make like I slaved all day.

And for those of you wondering about the effects of Vicks on an infant's face, no worries. She fell soundly asleep after I scrubbed her red, with the lips of Angelina Jolie.