Smelling like a dad

Most dad's have a job where they come home with a particular smell that will remind their children of them for the rest of time. Well, maybe not most, but some I guess. The receptionist at work loves the smell of oil, as her dad is our Valvoline rep. I didn't grow up with my birth dad, and my step dad was a firefighter so I don't have the smell factor for my dads, but I know West comes home smelling like sawdust. Aside from the time of day (or rather night) when my head hits my pillow for the night (oh sweet bliss), coming home from work is my favorite time of the day. Home. Husband. Circus. Heaven. My circus runs to me yelling "MOM!" and they wrap their arms around me and I hope they never grow out of this. And then they take a deep breath. This part I hope they DO grow out of. "I love the smell of tires Mom, it reminds me of you." *sigh* I do accounting. But I do it for Burt Brothers Tires. And I do it in their warehouse. You know, that great big giant building where they store all the tires for the stores. Mom's aren't supposed to smell like tires. Maybe I should get a job at a craft store, at least then I can come home smelling like cinnamon pine cones.