Smell the Rich

 My kids were in Miami Beach for a week with their wee ones.  Since I live in a one-bedroom apartment, there wasn’t enough room for everyone.  I was privileged to have three little girls sleeping over, which resulted in my place looking like 18,000 crayons threw up.  I just call it "MOMM"- “Museum of  Modern Mess”.  

In contrast to this disorganized chaos, my son’s in-laws occupy a magnificent penthouse in a luxury building.  Driving up in my Nissan Sentra , surrounded by Bentleys, Maseratis and pretentious people, I felt like I needed to start a Gofundme.  As I handed the valet my keys,  I watched as an impossibly cellulite-free, Arianna Grande ponytailed, lithe thing of undeterminable age, walked by me.  I hated her.  She cradled $5K, just on the crook of her arm alone, but I wasn’t jealous.   “NO!  NOT JEALOUS!

My gorgeous, hunky young son came to greet me.  I love him so much, I could barely breathe.   Every time I see my kids, I know I’m loved by G-d. Just when I was about to tear up (for a change), my son grabbed my hand and took me into the pristine lobby.  I was fascinated by the white décor that did not have a spot on it.  They must have had “Mr. Clean” on retainer.  The aroma in the lobby reminded me of a sumptuous spa where ice water with lemon is perched in every corner.  I looked around for some robes.  Basically, my son summed it up.

“Ma! It smells like “rich people”, no?”

I laughed.

“Yeh, like money!”   I didn’t know if they had a diffuser with different scented oils, but I, then, remarked.

“Didn’t you notice that I had a diffuser in my kitchen containing lavender essential oils?  Did you smell money there?”

“Ma, you have to HAVE money to smell like money, but you know you’re very rich where it counts!” 

(Tell that to my bank account)

“Well, my baby, I know you will make lots of money.  I’m sure of it and I have one favor to ask you”.

“Anything, Ma”,  my progeny responded.

“When you’re loaded, you can keep your money, but can you at least give me the “smell?  I wanna smell “rich”.

And with that, we “fobbed” our way into the inner sanctum of the exclusive condo’s pool and gym.  It felt like a “Russian Doll”.  We had to unlock numerous gates, just to get to the pool.   The more expensive the building, the more locks there are.  There’s only one place with more locks…prison☺