For the first time since childhood, this morning I’d cause to utilise Germolene antiseptic cream. I’ll openly admit it not the most interesting minutiae you’ll hear today. However, I felt moved to mention undertaking the act as, with it’s distinctive aroma, exposure to this germ battling lotion evoked memories of my fledgling years.

On suffering a cut or graze as kids, my siblings and yours truly were oft recipients of Germolene. The, then pink coloured, ointment mater’s ‘go to’ remedy for ensuring her offspring enjoyed healthy wound recuperation.

This morning’s use of a regular childhood companion the consequence of me misguidedly pointing out to Maggie (mum) I’d an unclean graze on my skin. An off the cuff remark that resulted in being taken back to the 1970’s, after her well-meaning, but overpowering, maternal insistence I treated the wound with her favoured antiseptic ointment.

Marty McFly required a DeLorean car and a mad professor to embark on travelling through time in the movie Back to the Future. However, this morning, all I needed was an application of Germoline cream and a mad old woman to regress to 1975 and a house in Low Fell, Gateshead.

Those halcyon days when any wounds sustained playing football or cricket were routinely covered (after cleaning) with copious amounts of this ‘magic’ ointment. Liberal applications rendering you with an overpowering fragrance of antiseptic for at least a day. After which if the graze still appeared unclean it’d receive a further covering.

To be fair to mum, my brother Ian, sister Helen and me never sustained an injury that turned septic on her watch, so the product did what it said on the tin.

Our Ian was regularly ‘in the wars’ back then, his every injury responding positively to the maternally applied Germolene….. Except for a fractured finger he obtained playing cricket, which he found recuperated more effectively to splint bandaging.

Anyhow, after this morning’s treating of the graze with the ‘magic’ antiseptic cure all (apart from broken digits) cream my skin wound has a fight on it’s hands if it wishes to remain unclean. The only downside being I now smell like I’ve just bathed in TCP.

On leaving my mater’s home today, Maggie’s maternal care extended further with an insistence I take the Germolene home. A provisio made on opining the antiseptic cream normally utilised in casa Strachan junior is, to quote, “Like my arse!”

The antiseptic cream that ordinarily adorns my bathroom cabinet is a far milder, less scented rival of my mother’s favoured brand. In fact it’s so bereft of odour my wife Karen once mistook it for tooth paste. An accident resultant from her decision to clean her teeth without the bathroom light on.

Hindered by poor illumination, she commenced cleaned her teeth with the antiseptic ointment. A mistake I’d proffer she couldn’t possibly have made with the heavily scented Germolene.

Thankfully, my spouse soon realised her error and ceased cleaning prior to ingesting the product. I’m no medical expert but I’d wager ingestion of any brand of antiseptic cream is frowned upon by their manufacturers.

If you’re interested, I’ll provide daily updates as to the healing powers of the ointment against it’s current foe on yours truly’s skin……. Oh, your not!!…… I won’t bother then!