johnson’s baby cologne

it’s a typical summer day. it’s hot; i’m sticky. the cotton shirt and shorts clinging to my skin don’t help cool my small body. i follow you to the toilet and watch as you get changed for the market. it’s going to be even hotter outside – i remember the downpour of sweat from each time we return home. i know you’re almost done when you reach for the small bottle of baby cologne, uncapping it with a soft pop. you offer me the precious liquid, a special treat that happens only once in a while. you put small small drops on both sides of my collarbone and one drop each on my wrists. they’re cool against my skin, and disappear in no time. i follow you down the corridor, putting my wrists to my nose and sniffing nonstop, beaming, excited. i put my hand in yours, both warm, as you open the front door. i don’t mind the heat as much anymore. i smell good and i’m happy.

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