The Sensual Side

Time and place are very important. In order to fully experience life, you have to engage sensually, all five, maybe six senses. But there are right times to do that, and, well, less right times.

Love the sound of gravel crunching under my feet, but not when those feet are naked, and I’m trying to have a shower: Cat litter trays do not belong in the bathroom. Likewise, the piney fresh spray being issued every thirty seconds does not quite mask the scent of kitty faeces.

It’s great to have the feeling of sand between your toes, but not when you’re in bed, trying to undo three days of sleepless nights. Thank you, son number three, for taking off your shoes on my side of the bed.

The earthy smell of potatoes can evoke sprawling fields of brown and green under azure skies, but a sack of potatoes left in the back of the cupboard until liquefied smells like something John Wayne Gacy would have left in a crawlspace under his house.

You’ve just realised your baby is going to vomit, so you go up close to lift them up and carry them to the bathroom. Never look up with your mouth open while you carry them over your head as they release their stomach contents. Just don’t.

What moves us to look at things like crime scenes and car wrecks? Would you rather: A) Watch a tulip unfurling in the neonate wards of spring, or B) See what appears to be an ex-human disturbingly without a head?

And the sixth sense is most worrying of all: I can’t be alone in saying phrases like ‘But I thought you wanted to…’ or ‘I just got the wrong idea’, or ‘You seemed to be the kind of person who would appreciate that sort of humour’.

I’m terrible at projecting thoughts into other people’s minds. You wouldn’t believe how wrong I can get it: Look- I’ll try and read yours…. You are thinking about…. Wait…. It’s coming to me… I have absolutely NO idea.

I’d say, a penny for your thoughts, but, A) What the hell good is a penny, and B) If you are reading this, your thoughts can’t be too deep, anyway.