It would make sense for the publisher to give the flowers a real scent if the children are supposed to be smelling the flowers like Paul. Still, I did not remember this from my childhood. For probably a week after we received the book - before I opened it - I could not for the life of me figure out why Mason's room smelled like my great-grandmother's bathroom. I had to actually sniff out the location of the scent, and it was then that I discovered "Now YOU smell the flowers." Instant congestion. Sneezing fit. Scratching in the back of my throat. True life: I'm allergic to Pat the Bunny.
What's weird is that I still haven't gotten rid of the book. It's like I somehow keep forgetting that those flowers get me every single time. We'll go weeks without reading it, and then Mason will pull it off the shelf and bring it over to me. The second I open it up I'm reminded.
So aside from being a marginally amusing anecdote, I want this blog post to serve as a reminder: I need to give that book away.
If you would like a copy of Pat the Bunny (that somehow, despite our infrequent readings, has lost it's cover) please let me know. I would happily seal it in a zip-loc bag and send it your way. It's really a darling book, I promise... but not if you have allergies.