Leaves, Pine Cones & Dead Carcass

Do you ever feel like there's something just working against all odds to make your life completely miserable in the most ridiculous way possible?

Well, I do. { Example One; Example Two}


Backstory: A few weeks ago, I got into trouble with my husband about my lack of attention to this rattling sensation that had engulfed my truck. (Well as much trouble as a wife can get into while rolling her eyes and saying "But I didn't notice it, I swear!") We took the truck in, got her fixed and I promised to be more observant. He promised not to make fun of me in public for my very stereotypical attention deficit order to all things mechanical (okay, I lied, he didn't promise that, but oh how I wish he would!)

Monday, April 4 - I notice a shimmy in my steering wheel and while normal people may be annoyed at this, I was incredibly ecstatic because I NOTICED IT and then thought,

Finally, I can prove to him that I AM observant and capable!

But then 8 hours of work passed by and I forgot. (This is important, had I told him this at the time, the following probably could have been avoided.)

Tuesday, April 5 - I notice a faint smell of nastiness as I lock Lillie into the car seat, but I figure since we live out in the boonies it's probably some smell wafting from a neighboring field. I crank the truck, back out of the driveway, get my tunes ready to roll, turn on the A/C and

Whhhhyyy,  thHeEeHHee EEffFF iiiiSSS MMMyyyY TrUUUUCkkkkKKK shhhHHHAAAKKKinnnggg Lliiike thhAAAAAtttTT?

 I cut off the A/C. It stops. I cut onnnnTHHHeeeAAA/C, I cut off the the A/C, IIIiii CCCuuuttt onnNNNthheeeeeAAA/C, I cut off the A/C. This process goes on for the next 10 minutes, because I want to make sure I'm not losing my mind and imagining all this. I look at the clock - 7:42 a.m. I need to call Alfred and explain what's going on, but I'll just do it when I get to work. Because I want to be safe and not talk on the phone while driving. Uh, right.

Can you see where this is going?

Yep, forgot. Well, until right before bed. So, technically I did tell him on the day I noticed it so uh, I can get at least one point for effort right?


Wednesday, April 6 - I walk out my front door, I again smell horribleness but this time it seems to be emanating from all aspects of my truck. I roll down all the windows, apologize to Lillie while simultaneously looking under seats for a possible lost dirty diaper, or an escaped chicken nugget. I find nothing. And then as any hopeful non-mechanically inclined wife would do - I tuuURRnnneEEdd onnnn and immediately turned it off.

And then I threw up in my mouth a little. Okay, fine - a lot.

The smell was in my truck. It was IN MY TRUCK.
Specifically, in my A/C. Un-Frackin-believable. I drove to work with all 4 windows down, hair be damned, and occasionally gagging at the smell that would disappear and then return at the exact moment I was breathing extra deep to get out that Celine Dion note I was just jamming too.

I did not forget to call Alfred when I got to work at this point. I asked if perhaps the reason my truck was doing the shimmy shake was if an animal had worked it's way into the organs of my truck and laid it's soul to rest for all eternity.

His response - laughter. And then some more laughter. I somehow make out in the midst of his cackling spree that he'll look into it when we get home tonight. I think sure, I can make it until then. I only have to be in my truck on the way home. Windows down, I'm gooooood.

That is until I realize it's supposed to be in the 80s, my truck hangs out in a parking lot of no shade and I had lunch plans. Let's just say that the heat did not help my situation 4 hours later as I pulled out of the parking lot for my lunch date, windows at this point were just beyond help. It was bad. It was hilarious. And despite, the horror of it I knew it'd still be worse as it sat in the parking lot for the next 4 hours of my work day.

I was - in a word - dreading 5 o'clock. I survived the trip home, barely. As the smell wasn't just invading my nostrils at this point, but also my taste buds. I was eating winded dead animal, I just knew it and for some reason not knowing what the animal was made it all the more disgusting.

Bird, cat, mouse, squirrel, iguana, a slew of spiders, raccoon, dog - what the hell was in there?

As Alfred dismantled my truck, I took Lillie in the house for her "Hey, Mom, I'm home now and I just pooped myself" diaper change and then we walked outside with my nose turned up ready to hear what horrible disgusting animal was lodged into my taste buds.

Alfred insisted there was nothing there. I insisted there was. I was that crazy woman, barefooted, baby on the hip, one arm-a-flailing, talking/screaming at him that I wasn't crazy. There was something in there. Why can you not smell it? Alfred, don't mess with me. Did you find it? I'm not crazy. What is it? LOOK AGAIN.

Come to find out, it was a mouse - Alfred just enjoys making me lose my mind. He's a sick, twisted individual and by gawd I love him for it. (For the record, had the roles been reversed I would have so done the same thing to him.)

Thursday, April 7 - There's a new smell. A more...uh, fragrant? pleasant? confusing? Yes. Confusing smell. I was intrigued, what was that? I could still smell the decay, but it was underneath a mask. But a mask of what?

Why, a mask of Fall Harvest Febreze my good people!

My husband had tried to help mask the smell by using a bottle of Febreze, some bleach and gawd who knows what else.

But all I could make out was leaves, pine cones and dead mouse carcass.

I've not been able to look at barbecue the same since.