Dead Things, Mikey, Dead Things
Breaking my busy-induced hiatus because it wouldn’t quite fit in 140 characters…
Last night, I got home and got out of the car, and there was a horrible smell. As the spouse remarked, “It smells like something died.” It really did, almost overwhelmingly so.
I had two immediate thoughts:
1) “Dead things, Mikey, dead things.”
2) I hope nothing took up in the garage during the flood, got trapped, and perished there. (I’ve previously found a cat-killed bird in the corner of the garage, so I know small animals can get in there).
We rolled the trash cans up to the street, and that seemed to make the smell go away. If you’re thinking, “My trash never smelled *that* bad, you’re probably right.”
Apparently the formerly frozen turkey – which I thought had gone out and been picked up at trash collection last week – had been sitting in the outside can for a full week. It’s been 70+ degrees here all that time.