Windex

I hate the smell of Windex. It's not some arbitrary quirk I have or some discrepancy against glass cleaning agents. It's a deep loathing I have for the wintergreen-esque scent and the memories it brings me. I think the root of this hatred started at a very young age but didn't profoundly affect me until I was 12. I believe I can't directly pin the blame on my mother but I'm sure some crackpot, overpaid, therapist who has no idea of my life and most certainly doesn't care, would assure me that was where the blame could be rightfully placed. She always insisted on cleaning the windows after my gritty hands had ruined the splendid transcendence. She would wipe them multiple times each and every Sunday until they radiated with spotless perfection. I remember being very young and squinting with my poor astigmatism afflicted eyesight through our glass door and trying to spot the "faeries" in the glass.