skunk

I was driving home the other day with my wife in the passenger seat when we drove past a dead skunk. She immediately let her window up but I pushed my window down. She asked what was wrong with me that I would let my window down to smell a dead skunk.
I began to try to explain to her that the smell of that skunk reminded me of some bomb ass weed that me and my hommies used to smoke when we were in college. She asked how I could smoke something that smelled like a dead animal. I tried to explain that the weed didn’t smell like a dead animal, it smelled like the skunk’s stench.
She still didn’t understand, she couldn’t fathom how I could have fond memories of something that smelled like skunk spray. No matter how I tried to describe, she did not get it. I grew tired of trying to explain it to her so I changed the topic of conversation. But, before I got too far down the road I inhaled deeply and remembered those bomb ass sacks of skunk weed from the mid-90s.