Wow. I’ve just come across something in the corner of my room that defies explanation. An unidentifiable mound of questionable origin that can’t be categorized due to what appears to be fossilization. Old chicken nugget, dried spot of dog vomit, poop? I’m at a loss here. I’ve set up a crime scene type boundary around the area so that I can take some time to investigate and run a few tests before removing it.
My car used to have a similar problem. Various discarded food containers and half-finished soft drink bottles rolled wildly around while I zoomed through DC on my way to one event or another. Every time someone tried to exit or enter things flew out behind them and on to the street, or worse attached themselves to their clothing. That would usually require the cars owner (me) to offer the service of removing these things from the frightened passengers followed by a disgusted “your car is fucking vile” from the victim.
During the summer things would go from bad to worse. Whenever the car was left out in the blazing DC heat, the bacteria would multiply and produce a stench that would punch you in the face as soon as you opened the door. Nothing beats the combo of four-week old McDonald’s hamburger, sour milk clinging to the bottom of a year old sippy cup and urine. That’s right. Il Duce thought it would be a laugh riot if he stripped down naked inside (while I tried to conduct a conversation outside the car) whipped it out and peed all over my seats. No amount of cleaning or perfuming can defeat the pungent odor of kid pee.
My husband laughed at me a few weeks ago when I was going around sniffing various areas trying to determine where the stench of garlic was coming from. Now, I’m Italian so I’m used to having this particular smell oozing from my pores for weeks at a time. Especially after a trip home to NY to eat the raw cloves on top of my favorite dish at Romolo’s (BEST RESTAURANT EVER)- angel hair pasta with garlic and oil.
Here I do need to stop and tell you that Romolo’s appears to shave the garlic (yes, just like they do in prison in the movie Goodfellas) and place it delicately on top of this mind-blowing entree.
But I digress.
This garlic was just wrong. Too overpowering, overcooked and nauseating. I spent the better part of that day making piss faces and dropping unnecessary comments so I’m sure he was about ready to silence me with the aluminum bat we keep behind the radiator.
We continue to find golden surprise nuggets around our house daily so we are never without something to worry about or categorize. Occasionally we just sigh and leave it there, other times we break out the hazmat suits and pull a Silkwood but it seems as though with offspring and pets this type of occurence is the norm. Or at least the norm for pathetic, throw in the towel types like myself. My mother would be aghast.