I have a bad, bad mind.

I finished Eric Flint's latest alternate-history 17th century book recently. Without giving away spoilerish details, one of the main characters is given a golden rose by the Pope for service to the Catholic Church. She carries it around for the entire book, wrapped and kept for security in her undergarments.

Here's a bit from the ending:

"I haven't taken it out since Dona Mencia wrapped it for me the day I left Munich. I hope it is not bent or dented."
...
(name) picked it up, held it against her nose, and said, "Sniff."
"How strange. It almost seems to have an aroma."

Okay, what the authors are intending to imply is the possibility of heavenly intervention - a miracle. That things have turned out for the best thanks to God and the saints.

My brain, however, immediately said "She's been carrying that rose in her petticoats for months of hard travel! Of course it has an aroma!"
(To clarify, I would expect it to have an aroma if I'd been carrying it around for months in my undergarments.)