Not far from the Fairmont Hotel in Monte Carlo: reserve your room with a view here.

"Beurk!"* my daughter complains, as we brush our teeth at the bathroom sink which, on the upside, beats brushing at the tub…or "over the tub" for "over" we must lean (and down we must stoop) in order to spit/hit our drain target.

While brushing at the sink is a step up from brushing at the tub, "we’re not there yet"* as the French would say. ("There" being a still-elusive state in which water runs in a more orderly and less odorous manner.)

"Ça sent!" my daughter continues. I have to agree with her: the sink smells. I do have my doubts about our drains. But so far there is no reason to believe that the pipes are faulty. And so, with renewed enthusiasm, I rinse out my mouth (determined not to doubt our water spout).

"Tiens!"* My son says, bounding into the bathroom.
"Cadeau pour toi!" Present for you!
"Who’s it from?" I wonder.
"Papa!"

I rip open the packaging, never minding the no-nonsense gift wrap (a plastic bag), and find a lime green bottle. Absent is the cut-glass stopper and poetic gold-trimmed label. The sticker reads "2 bouchons par semaine" (2 capfuls a week). Well, there you go: the secret behind a French woman’s enduring scent: pour it on!

"Elimine les odeurs…"* the sticker promises; sounds a bit accusing if you ask me. I skip to the end of the label, to the last bit which translates to "disinfects." Why, I find that downright insulting!

On second glance my suspicions are confirmed when, dumb as a drain, I realize that this perfume is for someone else: our promiscuous pipes.

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References: Beurk! = Yuck! we’re not there yet = on n’est pas encore là; tiens! = here!; la souris (f) = mouse; élimine les odeurs = eliminates odors