If you know you will be cuddling a baby, how does that effect your regular perfume wear? Do you wear something soft? Apply early so it's well dried down? Or do you go without a fragrance that day? If you do wear a fragrance when cuddling babies, what do you wear?

As you may know, I've struggled to write this review. My son made it embarrassingly simple. He smelled it and said, "It smells like your leather jacket, and strawberries... 10 out of 10!" Why does Godolphin hit so hard for me? The truth is, it takes me back to a pivotal time in my life, where I realized that substance mattered more than hype. I was a 22-year-old celebrity. A cool rock n' roll radio DJ. Everyone knew my name, they didn't really know me. I never paid for a drink, or a meal. I did wait in lines. People just gave me things for free all the time — I got my first computer and my first leather jacket as gifts from fans. But mostly, beautiful women gave me their bodies. I MC'd all the local live music shows. I was out drinking, being the life of the party every single night (including Christmas) for over 2 years straight... One night at the club, I was MC. I got the crowd going, introduced the band, and got off stage to get a fresh bourbon. Maybe 8 absolutely gorgeous girls threw themselves at me while I was trying to get my drink. Instead, I walked out. I crossed the street to the skuzzy bar, where nobody knew me. I paid for a pint of beer with my own money, and sat down. I was in a foul mood. The drunken young men were annoying me, and I started using my wit and verbal skills to fire humorous but cruel taunts and jokes at them — I needed to vent. The drunk boys didn't understand half of what I was saying, but a female laugh nearby clearly did. It took some time to identify the laugh's owner. She had a bald head, leather jacket, ripped jeans, 5 foot nothing. I sat down with her, and a much older, voluptuous redhead (her mother). These two ladies were sharp and funny, and we had laughs and great conversations, until my alarm reminded me I needed to be on stage again soon. I went back to the show, did my 3 minutes on stage, fought off the sycophants, and went back to the ladies across the street. That little bald punk girl had no idea that across the street, I was a king. (I had no idea she was so smart — turned out she was a member of Mensa.) She was funny, interesting, and completely unlike anyone I'd been spending my nights with.