Garlic

 

Growing up, in order for my parents to grant me permission to go out, I had to complete an endless list of chores- only to then be reminded of my curfew.  For example:  I would have to clean this and that, and that and this.  By the time I was done it would be 7pm.  I still needed to shower and get dressed by 8pm because anytime after that was unacceptable for me to leave the house (I am the only girl).  In addition to this, my curfew was 10pm, 11pm if I did not have school the next day.  This was enforced from 12th grade through college, and after I moved out and became a mother!  

Every single time that my father knew (which was all of the time- thanks Mommy!) that I was going out he would request that I peel garlic so that he could make sofrito (a staple in traditional Puerto Rican households)!  It never failed.  I'm not talking about a clove!  I had to peel rows of cloves!!!  The smell never bothered me.  I loved (and still do) the scent of freshly peeled garlic.  It was not until years later, like TEN, that the MR. decided to casually mentioned that he thought it was "cute" that I (not my breath!) always smelled like garlic when we first began dating.  REALLY???  Apparently he thought that I used to eat it raw.  My mouth was on the floor!  No one ever brought this to my attention...EVER!  

Looking back, I realize that my father knew exactly what he was doing...keeping the vampires away.  Only a true love would appreciate the scent of raw garlic on a woman.  Thank you, Daddy and Mommy.

Sincerely, G.