A Matchbox Made in Heaven (but this is my story!)

My son talked me into a Friday Only yard sale this morning.  It's true.  He's a kind soul and not normally a backseat driver-unless-he spots a paper board sign posted to a telephone pole. 
"What street!  What's the street?"
You can ignore his request to seek out the sale if-If you are at least willing to read, out loud, the name of every street you pass and convincingly add, "Nope, that's not it." 

He does become a warrior, a natural hunter, sitting forward on the edge of his proverbial car seat, he will conquer.

A man to his core.

He's after matchbox cars.  He's repo'ed a few favs, a 1950s Hudson Commodore called "Lead foot," another with a double rhinoceros horn, and today he set his eyes on the prize- a '69 Baja Sand Buggy called "Zoro." 

"Ooo, ahh," I was helping peruse.
I could read his three year old mind, Mom, forget it.  Stop trying.  Your taste in matchbox (and cars in general) is sub par. 

Whatever.  So what if I love the Nissan Juke or the Hot Wheels "Duck-Boat-ish" thing. 

It was a great stop for the two of us.  
[After being mocked for my taste] I side stepped two feet, away from his "wowie zowie's."  Boooring [I'm allowed one, no?]. 

On the floor was a collection of cigar boxes.  Old friends, welcoming.  I don't smoke them, never made a habit of it, but I have collected several wooden boxes over the years.   I love the smell of cooked tobacco leaves [in the morning...ha, it was begging me to go to that dramatic place], all dark and woods and campfire.  Despite their horrible health risks, I do enjoy the scent of the box.  And I get a whiff of colors too.  Colors.  I don't remember anyone smoking them when I was a kid, but I had a couple cigar boxes where I kept crayons at hand and small treasures secure.  

[This could explain why I've heard no one, but me, say, "Boy, Crayon's sure don't smell like they used to!"]  I took care of those, there was a relaxation about them.  Don't worry.  I didn't put the colors up to my lips.  I wouldn't do such things, I already had a Chesterfield King candy for that. [Gotta love the evolution of marketing?  Yikes].