What does have a pencil have to do with a doll?

I know this is a funny way to start a post . . .

Have you ever noticed how powerful a scent or sound or anything else sensory can be in setting off a memory?

I have this happen all the time. Whenever I smell wildfire smoke it reminds me of the terrible fires that would happen in the San Bernadino Mtn. when I was a kid. And the smell of a house fire takes me to when I was about 2 or 3 years old standing in front a relatives house after they had lost half their garage in a fire.

Well today I had a completely different scent set me off.

Our school is selling smencils this week. If you don't know about those, they are pencils made out of recycled materials and given a strong scent of some kind. Today I caught a whiff of the "very berry" one and was immediately taken back to when I was about 8 or 9 years old and I did something not so nice.

At that time I wanted nothing more than a Blueberry Muffin doll. I can't tell you how many times I would go to the toy store and drool over that little blue-haired doll. Well since my birthday was about 2 months off, I decided I couldn't wait that long. So one day while I was at my best friend's house I did a little snooping (sorry, I'm a Scorpio) and found where she hide her money. Over the next several days I took small amounts here and there until I had enough.

Even though my mom questioned me about where I got the money, I got the doll.

Unfortunately the ease of squirreling away my friend's money led me to try stealing from other places.

To make a long story short, I got caught.

My mom tried to get me to confess about where I got the money for my doll, but I wouldn't do it . . . eventually she figured it out and I lost big time . . . my birthday party for that year, my doll, and I had to tell my friend what I'd done.

Thankfully my friend was FAR more forgiving than my mom and I got to keep my best friend.

However when I see or think of a Blueberry Muffin doll, or the book Ramona and her Mother (the only present I got that year for my birthday) I remember what happened to get me there.

The good news is, I never stole again.

WHEW! And to think that whole long story came out of a smencil . . .

Scary, huh? :)