The Smell of Manhood

My cousin Trey had his Confirmation ceremony on Sunday. Confirmation is for Catholics, what Bar Mitvah's are for the Jewish (I think). It's a rite of passage in which Catholic children confirm their beliefs in the church and basically enter into adulthood as functioning Catholics. Again, this is my perception of it, was my perception of it when it happened to me and the perception I got out of it watching many ceremonies occur.
Trey had his party at his home. Lots of food and music. Of course, we included pork on the menu. I think that Bar Mitzvahs don't have pork. And there was lots of money given. Because we are of Filipino descent, there was also a karaoke machine for our parent's/the elderly guests enjoyment. They used it too--it was magic stick as well. It didn't do anything magical for their voices. They still sounded the same--out of tune, but happy.
I saw Trey in the midst of the crowd and called him over so that I could congratulate him. Having gone through all the classes for confirmation and gone through the ceremony many years ago (many, many, many) I was proud that he made it though. I gave him a hug and was taken aback by a musky/fresh smell. I hugged him again and then asked, "Are you wearing cologne?".
He smirked and said, "Someone gave it to me as a confirmation gift". He said this rather defensively.
I told him that I wasn't berating him. I just said I was surprised that he was wearing it.
The reason that it took me by surprise was because I use to associate cologne with "grown-ups". I remember getting my first cologne--Polo at about the age of 18 and thinking it was a pretty big deal to wear. Trey is only 14, a mere baby in my eyes.
Maybe it's because I watched him grow up. I remember when his parents told me about his first steps. I also remember a few other things--like the fact that he loved playing outside. It didn't matter what the temperature was, he loved being outside. The cologne was a new scent on Trey. The scent I remember is a mixture of children sweat with the woodsy smell of being outdoors.
At the end of the night when I was saying goodbye. I hugged him again. I must have made a face, because Trey smirked and bit his lower lip to keep from going into complete laughter.
He said, "It's called Lacoste".
I told him it smelled great and gave him another hug.
While driving my car, I cracked the window open to let some cold air in. Just then, I got a whiff of that woodsy, outdoor smell that use to cling to my younger cousin's clothes.