Last year we had a squirrel chew it's way into our home, eat our poison, and then die up in our wall. (The nerve of him, right?) The smell was awful! Putrid! We had to cram newspapers in all the air ducts and burn candles non-stop.. we went so far as to throw a billion moth balls in the crawl space making the whole house smell like my granny's panties. That was a long 3 months for me. My tongue got sore from the constant apologizing and explaining what happened to every person who stopped by. At least I lost weight because the smell was so horrible I couldn't stomach anything.
The madness continues in public.
Yesterday we went to our Chiropractor's office, it was a gray wet day outside. We came in the door and I instantly smelled a nasty smell. I am trying to be quiet and polite while still maintaining this conversation with my husband:
I say "What is that smell?"
He says "What?"
I say "It smells musty."
He says "Huh?"
I say slightly louder "IT SMELLS MUSTY"
and he says "I smell?"
and I say "no, it smells MUST-Y"
He says "I smell like butt stink?"
I just stop and stare at him. How is this guy allowed to leave the house without a smelling nose dog, or a hearing ear dog? Seems unfair that he can't smell anything or hear anything while I sit here with all the senses he doesn't have. But alas, that is for God to figure out, not me. Maybe I'll be able to sniff out and snuff out the next great fire in Chicago?
So actually, I do stop to smell the roses (it's a nice break from stink that insists on following me.)
I know what I'm buying your hubby for Christmas. Cologne. Ha.
ReplyDeleteMy hub's is deaf, too. Or maybe he tunes me out? Dunno.
Enjoy smelling those roses!!