The Smell

My vacuum has been at the Sears store for almost two weeks because the warranty is just about to run out and I wanted to have the "Quick Release" button (the one that got broken months ago - apparently "Mr. Nobody" did it - that allows me to take the powerhead off without bending down. Yes. I am that lazy. Hey, it's half the reason I bought the damn thing) fixed. I never expected it would take this long to replace a small plastic piece, but there you go. Which means, and this grosses me out just as much as it will gross you out, my carpets have not been vacuumed for almost two weeks. UGH! I noticed a smell in the living room yesterday, which I chalked up to unvacuumed carpets, probably overflowing with digusting stinking bacteria. Yes, I have been Febrezing the shit out of my rugs. Everyday. It's like forgoing the shower and just slapping on deodorant. It doesn't work after the third day.

I got my vacuum back today. Finally. Happy? Ecstatic. After I vacuumed, I flopped down on the couch, only to realize that despite my Febrezy and vacuumy efforts, I could still smell the smell. The smell is like if you traded underwear with a hobo that hadn't showered for ohh.. say 15 years. Or if you missed your cat and you wanted to hug him. So you dug him up from the backyard.

The next logical step is not to see if you can pin down the source of the smell, but to go ripping down to the hardware store, get some rug shampoo (and clean up blood, but I'll get to that), come home, and shampoo every square inch of carpet (with a machine, people. I am far too lazy to do it by hand). Because NASCAR was on, the couch that Hot Stuff was on had done a Vulcan mind meld to his ass, so I had to save the carpet underneath it for last.

So I found the dead mouse when I moved the couch. It was gassing out, and that was what the smell was. So gross, sooo gross, so so so gaaahh-ross. Hot Stuff is terror-fied of mice, so I had to clean it up. The smell is still in my nose. The carpets are clean (ish, I know steam cleaners don't actually "clean" the carpet very well), the rugs are sparkly, but the smell is still in my nose. I am haunted by the smell of gassing out dead mouse. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Oh, and the blood? While I ran into the hardware store to get rug cleaner, Hurricane and the Princess stayed in the truck (go ahead and give me The Look, they were in the truck and it was locked and the windows were open just enough to circulate fresh air, and I had the keys with me, and they were right outside the front door and it's a small town and I could see the truck the whole time). Somehow, while climbing towards the front seat to sneak a piece of gum which he is not allowed to have, the Hurricane managed a face plant into my console. When I returned to the truck, his nose was bleeding and his lip was swelling. I am puzzled at the logistics of this; how does one fall in a forward motion and hit himself between the nose and the upper lip on the knob that adjusts temperature?

His lip started to swell right away. At first, my kid looked like he had too much collagen and botox. I couldn't help but laugh, poor kid. After we got home, Hurricane had some Motrin and crashed on the couch. While he slept, his nose swelled a bit, and his upper lip swelled a lot. I am now the proud mother of Moe Szyslak, bartender from The Simpsons.