coffee

I use to keep my Barbie clothes in my Dad's old Folgers can. Whenever I breathe in the smell of coffee, I still envision miniature plastic pink high-heels, matching floral print dresses and teeny-tiny little fluorescent coloured bathing suits.

Millie, my elderly next door neighbour, once had a tiny yellow porcelain toilette figurine resting on the back of her own human sized toilette.

When I was 5, I fell in love with this mini toilette and for months after would visit just to sit in her bathroom and admire it.

Sometimes I'd bring my Barbies over, just so they could pee too.

Millie took pity and sympathy on my Barbie's poor bladders-- as they'd sometimes have to hold their pee in for days at a time- between our visits. Deep down, she didn't want my Barbie house to be filled with the daunting stench of Barbie and Ken urine, so she graciously awarded me her miniature yellow porcelain toilette, for being her favorite neighbour.

I was so thrilled that sometimes most of my play time consisted of Barbies taking turns going poop.

And that's what the smell of Coffee reminds me off...

Barbie turds.