What died in here?
Before we left for vacation, we spotted a flea on Sadie. Just one. But she was biting and scratching herself so badly that I was afraid that perhaps there were more.
So, when we left, I asked my mom to set of a flea bomb, ensuring that the cats were out of the house.
She did, and whatever may or may not have been living in the house was dead and life continued on.
Then a week later, something smelled.
Like, really bad.
And it brought me to the point where I was moving the stove, the fridge, checking the vents, under the couch, scouring the floors, everything.
What was it?!
Two days went by and I could smell this awful smell. And so could Matt. Yet, he wasn’t home as much as me, so it didn’t annoy him as much.
Then, finally, I zeroed in on a location. The corner of the kitchen. I started sniffing around. Afraid I was going to find a dead mouse or something awful that a cat had brought in, or was subsequently killed by the flea bomb, and there it was.
What was it?
It was a cantaloupe. One that I had purchased only a few days prior. I held it up to Matt and said, “Hey, is this it?”
And he sniffed and then cursed me for making him smell it.