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Whiff

I moved into this home some five hundred nights ago, when, for a very long time, the best smell in the world was the cool side of Jordan’s body pillow — wet earth and summer skin.

For the past two hundred some nights, I’ve watched Carter sleep. Now, in his first summer, it’s too hot for pajamas and blankets. He uses his entire crib — you never know where he’ll be curled up or sprawled out. But, oh, the smell — oatmeal and sweet milk-breath. New favorite.

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