Tomorrow's Lunch

So I was fixing tuna fish for lunch tomorrow and thinking the whole time about how it really sinks. (Not eating tuna fish for lunch but the smell of it.) So then the smell of it reminded me of one time I made it and took tuna fish sandwiches on the beach with Abe and some of his Ohana. By the time that we ate them they were soggy and gross...but we had a great time anyway! So all that led my mind on a quick tangent most likely caused by my episodes of ADHD. My question...why do smells conjure up such vivid memories? I studied all the modalities of learning (or whatever they called all that stuff in college) so I know that people learn differently. Maybe it is just me. Maybe others do not have as strong of an olfactory sensory thing as me. If only I could have used it to my advantage back in the day. If the smell of rotting pumpkins had helped me understand the decomposition of plant cells as much as it helps me recall the physics of picking up pumpkins on school with Amy and Daddy...I'm sure I would have done better in biology. If the smell of onions, peppers, and diesel exhaust brought to me as much knowledge of good economics as it does the perfect footlong hotdogs...I'm sure I'd have never paid $5.00 for 12 inches of heart attack in a bun. If I was as quick recognize a type-o or a misspelled word as I am to recognize the smell of brownies baking...my writing would likely be as easy to read as a brownie is to eat. If the smell of Abe (right up around his neck...not cologne...just him) didn't still make me think about when we first snuggled at the old house...I might be quicker to go sleep somewhere else when he is SNORING. If the sweet essence of baby (soft skin, spit up, poopie, and all) wasn't just the greatest, maybe I would not still think about how great it would be to have another one if it would fit in our budget. If the smell of hospital soap didn't put a knot in my stomach and still make me want to cry...I probably would not realize how gratful I always should be. Wait...Wait don't think I'm getting too mushy...there is the smell of tobacco curing on a cool summer night. And what about leaves burning in the fall or a fire place in the winter? Ooh, what about the smell of the purple ink of a ditto machine or a new box of crayons. Or what about newly cut grass or a freshly plowed field...that makes me think of my cute little shoes that I left a little too close to where Daddy was plowing and never saw again. I could go on forever but right now the sweet smell of a cool pillow, some cotton sheets, and a man with the greatest smell in the world (that none of you better ever get close enough to smell) is calling my name.