ode to my nose

An Ode To My Nose:

I remember when I was a very little girl who still had a little nose, and I laughed at my dad because he had a big nose. It was a sudden realisation, the size of my dad's nose: it happened all at once. I remember saying matter-of-factedly, without much intention of offense: dad you have a big nose! and chortling to myself. And then my parents said back to me, with smirks on their wise faces: you will have the same nose as your dad.
I don't remember how I felt immediately following this interaction. Maybe a little disappointed. Maybe excited, because I was to inherit this grand sniffer of my dad (and his dad too). My mom has quite a different sized and shaped nose to my dad, it was smaller and not as long. (I'm not sure how my parents know I was to inherit my dad's nose-genes)
So I grew up and my nose developed to be rather similar to my dads. People (strangers) would look at us and laugh and say "Oh ho I can see you are related!" because we are nose twins, practically.

One of the scariest few seconds of my life was when I was overseas and I woke up and I couldn't smell anything. It wasn't that there was nothing to smell - there was, and my treasured nose didn't seem to be working. Blind panic descended, I could feel my life changing forever, I was already regretting all the things I had never had a chance to smell and would never smell again. I could feel raw emotion rising inside of me - was smell my favourite sense? Would loss of nose function be heartbreaking and change everything about who I am? I was getting sad and upset and felt vulnerable and then I sniffed again and again at the Aloe Vera tissue that convinced me smell was broken and then, just as suddenly as it had disappeared, my nose was working again.
Oh my nose may we never be wrenched apart again.

I love to smell things. Everything. I love the smell of rain and the smell of my dog and my family and coming home to the smell of roasting chicken and garlic and potato. Coffee. Chocolate. Carrot cake. Mushrooms in the microwave. Candles. I love how the morning smells. And the heater and the dirty guineapigs.

I think noses are kind of underrated, and they really shouldn't be because they are the best. Sniffing and smelling and whiffing and inhaling-through-your-nose and puffing is great. Noses rule