The scent of desire

It's midnight and I smell onion rings!! The smell permeates the entire house.

I first caught a whiff of that delectable scent while lounging on the couch pondering what I should post next. Sniff, sniff. Mmmm. Strange I smell them especially since I fixed baked chicken for dinner.  Oh well, I think, I'm just probably imagining the smell.

A few minutes later Scooter wanders out of his man cave (aka his bedroom) and plops down on the ottoman. I glance up at him as he is lying there petting our lovely puppy, Ms. Pooper. "Scooter, do you smell onion rings?' I ask him nonchalantly. Turning his head, cocking it ever so slightly while displaying a confused look, "No Mom, I don't smell any onion rings. I only smell your feet." "Well, do my feet smell like onion rings?" "No, they smell like stinking sweat socks." Hmmm. But the scent still lingers, whirling around the living room like some unseen force determined to torment me.

I continued to try to focus but the thought of onion rings dipped in ranch dressing began to take up the priority spot in my brain. I know I do not have any onion rings anywhere in the house, so, where would they be? Ah, I know! My eldest son has his man cave set up as a mini apartment, he may be in there cooking onion rings.

Saving my place in my entry, I close the Macbook, and make the trek to the other end of the house. I knock on the door. But there is no answer. I knock again, slightly louder, still no answer. I begin to pound on the door and am greeted with, "My God Mom, what is your problem? You sound like you're trying to tear down my door." I know it is pointless to pursue this argument because he always plays his video games at max volume. "I was wondering if you are cooking onion rings in here?", I ask while simultaneously taking a big sniff of his room. "NO MOM!!! I'm not cooking onion rings in here, no go away!" and the door slams shut in my face.

With the slight breeze from the moving door I again caught the scent of onion rings. I next tried to follow my nose, sniffing my way through the dining room and my bedroom. All was for naught though.

Frustrated by this point because I have this overwhelming urge for onion rings. I must have onion rings at any cost. So, knowing full well to satisfy this craving I would have to drive 20 miles to the nearest Wal-Mart to pick up a bag and that thought really didn't appeal to me.

My next step was to try to clear my head of this nonsensical idea, so, I opted for a nice relaxing hot shower. Once the water temperature was just right I hopped in and allowed the pulsing jet spray take me away. After 10 minutes I felt sufficiently relaxed, mind cleared, and ready to do my sleep preparing ritual.

Once I was dried and dressed, I grabbed my towels, and took them with the laundry basket to the basement to put a load in to wash. As I passed through the kitchen I caught a whiff of onion rings again. Resolved to not get caught up in that obsession again, I continued onto to the basement.

Back upstairs, I cleared the dishes, arranging them to be washed. All the while the scent was overwhelming me, driving me nuts! I had to find out what on earth was causing this smell. I opened every cabinet, every drawer, the oven, the microwave, the refrigerator. It wasn't until I came near the electric can opener that the onion ring scent was overwhelming. So here I was, sniffing along the counter when I came upon my black crockpot that I had washed and sat on the counter earlier in the day.

I leaned in and took a whiff. Bingo! The onion ring smell origin!! Well, now I know I washed that thoroughly, I wonder why it would smell that way. I decided to lift the lid from the pot. Once the steam had cleared from my glasses I was able to see the hamburger covered with onion soup seasoning. I forgot that I had decided to try a crockpot recipe for beef stew and for the lack of having an onion for the stew I had thrown a packet of onion soup mix in the pot.

And so the mystery of the scent of onion rings was solved albeit disappointingly. I was really looking forward to biting into a ranch covered crisp ring, especially if it was a Vidalia onion ring. Sigh.