I wasn’t just trying to get off the phone. It was an emergency. Something reeked. I had to find it. “Mom, I have go to go, something smells like mildew or something!!”
I emptied out under the sink. Nothing was leaking. It didn’t actually smell under there at all.
Earlier in the week we’d had a party. The dog was generously fed by everyone. In the following few days I think I said “Jeeezus, Fisher. Man. What did the dog eat?” about 857 billion times. It smelled. Bad. Really bad. Dog fart bad.
I have a top loading washing machine and I don’t close the top when I am not running it. I don’t use the $7 tablets to wash my washing machine. I just run a load with bleach every now and again and I figure it is clean. But this week I stood in front of the Affresh tabs for about 17 seconds (which with a toddler in tow at the grocery store feels like a millenium.) Because something smelled really bad when I was doing laundry.
The smell. It was following me.
When I was pregnant with Lucy I went on an all out rampage until I found one. single. mothball. This was no mothball. This was a bad, bad smell and I was going to find it.
Last week I pulled a rosary from Lucy’s mouth. It was weird and frightening in the same way that those magicians pulling the scarves from their mouths can be, with an added bonus of overt religiosity. I mentioned this on Facebook and several of my friends wanted to know why there was a rosary in my house to begin with. I explained it away quite simply. My husband has all brands of religious artifacts. He keeps most of them on an altar high up on a bookshelf.
I don’t mess with his stuff and he lets me write about our deepest darkest secrets on the internet. We have an understanding. So when he said “I found the smell” sheepishly I had no idea it had been coming from his altar. I had no idea what was even up there.
He could have just thrown it away. He could have kept it a secret and I’d have been convinced the smell had gone dormant in the cold and I’d have worried and wondered about what was rotting under the floorboards of the kitchen for months.
But instead he told me.
I’m not trying to tell you what to do. And I will admit that our family has had great juju, good times, lots of laughs and a relative absence of negativity in the last several months. I’m just saying that if you put AN EGG ON A SHELF IN YOUR KITCHEN DON’T LEAVE IT THERE FOR MONTHS. Because it will eventually stink. And your wife will be the only one that can smell it at first. And she will start to lose her ever-loving mind.
But your trash cans will get cleaned out. I suppose that’s a plus.
Whatever your religious and spiritual pursuits have you doing this holiday season I hope you remember where you put your egg!!! Merry Christmahanakwanzika, y’all and enjoy your Yule and Winter Solstice tomorrow!