Be Glad There are No Pictures
Looks like a lot of folks got in the mood for redecorating their blogs. It sure is easier than painting the living room or cutting the grass. I don't want to talk about cleaning anything but I have to. Later I will claim temporary insanity for writing this but I am A.-drugged to the gills and B.-still freaked out about the whole thing.
For most of the month of June I kept smelling something. Something Bad. Since my Kat Krew is notorious for bringing their victims into the house, I went on the hunt, sniff sniff, sniff. Had my son drag the kitchen stove away from the wall and tip it back so I could check for whatever. In the past, the odor was tracked to a dead frog under the stove. Nothing there this time but the evidence of my negligent housekeeping - various sizes of dustbunnies, a few petrified french fries and a dirty spoon. I searched high and low and came up empty handed and still the smell bugged me. I made Colin throw out his old sneakers and buy new ones. My husband and both my sons started looking at me askance and I thought I caught that "she's got the vapors look" that the men in my house flash one another when they think I can't see them.
Today, I was vindicated {{{{{shudder}}}}}}
Oh, the drugs. I have been bothered more and more frequently with an allergic reaction that makes my upper lip swell up until I look like Goldie Hawn in "the First Wives Club" with the extra trashy collagen job on her lips except that my mouth was always lopsided. The skin around my mouth and nose right up to my forehead has no feeling, like a stiff dose of novocaine has been stabbed between my eyebrows. Charming. I decided I had a brain tumor and gave up on worrying about the smell.
Today I finally took my fat lip to show the doctor because this time, I could feel the swelling in my throat and decided things were getting serious. She tut-tutted me, gave me a shot and a prescription for pills and a needle I can slam into my thigh ( now There's a Thrill I've never had) in case I start turning purple and a referral to an allergist. More needles to come.
So I get home and sat down at the big computer downstairs and what do I hear?
"Yeeeep-yeeep----urk,urk,urk" - the call of the Georgia Treefrog, who, with the 10 inches of rain that we have had in the last week, have decided to move inside the house no matter what the Katz have to say about it. I whirled around on my chair and pinpointed the last echo to the underside of my big fluffy white whorehouse chair, I mean chaise. I called for the Beef to lift the end of the chair up so I could evict the wayward frog and what do I find? A RODENT'S MUMMY! Arrrrggg! Gross. Disgusting.
Long dead and no longer odiferous. After cleaning that up, we settled back down to listen for the frog. I have GOT to find him before he starts to smell too.
For most of the month of June I kept smelling something. Something Bad. Since my Kat Krew is notorious for bringing their victims into the house, I went on the hunt, sniff sniff, sniff. Had my son drag the kitchen stove away from the wall and tip it back so I could check for whatever. In the past, the odor was tracked to a dead frog under the stove. Nothing there this time but the evidence of my negligent housekeeping - various sizes of dustbunnies, a few petrified french fries and a dirty spoon. I searched high and low and came up empty handed and still the smell bugged me. I made Colin throw out his old sneakers and buy new ones. My husband and both my sons started looking at me askance and I thought I caught that "she's got the vapors look" that the men in my house flash one another when they think I can't see them.
Today, I was vindicated {{{{{shudder}}}}}}
Oh, the drugs. I have been bothered more and more frequently with an allergic reaction that makes my upper lip swell up until I look like Goldie Hawn in "the First Wives Club" with the extra trashy collagen job on her lips except that my mouth was always lopsided. The skin around my mouth and nose right up to my forehead has no feeling, like a stiff dose of novocaine has been stabbed between my eyebrows. Charming. I decided I had a brain tumor and gave up on worrying about the smell.
Today I finally took my fat lip to show the doctor because this time, I could feel the swelling in my throat and decided things were getting serious. She tut-tutted me, gave me a shot and a prescription for pills and a needle I can slam into my thigh ( now There's a Thrill I've never had) in case I start turning purple and a referral to an allergist. More needles to come.
So I get home and sat down at the big computer downstairs and what do I hear?
"Yeeeep-yeeep----urk,urk,urk" - the call of the Georgia Treefrog, who, with the 10 inches of rain that we have had in the last week, have decided to move inside the house no matter what the Katz have to say about it. I whirled around on my chair and pinpointed the last echo to the underside of my big fluffy white whorehouse chair, I mean chaise. I called for the Beef to lift the end of the chair up so I could evict the wayward frog and what do I find? A RODENT'S MUMMY! Arrrrggg! Gross. Disgusting.
Long dead and no longer odiferous. After cleaning that up, we settled back down to listen for the frog. I have GOT to find him before he starts to smell too.
7 Comments:
Yes, uncovering corpses is great fun. My big stinks have been outside, thank goodness. A decomposing possum under a pine tree right next to the house was my last big find. I am lucky enough to also be called over to my friends homes to remove their "visitors". The last one was three rats from a barn toilet. Bloated and disgusting. I hope that you feel better, Deborah.
Thanks for the laugh. Your life is much more interesting than mine ;-)
You are truly too much. I am more worried about the alergic reaction. You really need to find out what is causing that.
Have you been playing with reciepts again.
So glad you finally went to the dr. My blood work report should be here soon. The cholestrol is down 44 pt to 186 but apparently my tryglycerides went up..hic , hic must be all that alcohol I consume.
Anyway, gotta love find anthropological finds under your chaise lounge...how old world and decadent.
Maybe you are allergic to something in the decomp process... and your symptoms will clear up now that your stink has been discovered.
I know about those nebulous odors. The one that drove me insane was a strawberry that fell into the defrosting slit in the freezer. Stink pushed through the air by the fridge compressor.
Now find out what allergies you have to deal with.
All I can say is eeewwwww!!! But I can relate, the neighbors cat leaves dead or half-eaten little mousey presents on our front door mat; (the neighbor says I should feel special that I get these kitty trophys, meaning the cat like us...?) but anyways, lately right as we leave for work at dawn we have to be sure to look down on the door mat, if not we step on one of those little trophy treasures...oh gross!
Hope you figure out your allergic reaction, I hate shots!
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