Over the last few days my car started to develop a rather odd smell. I just brushed it off as a food container and when I got home from work Monday I made sure to take the only one out of my car. It was empty and had been cleaned but I figured the California heat had somehow baked some leftover smell out of it and went on my way.
Then I went to get in my car this morning. And I opened the door. And a smell so strong came out that it melted the paint off the wall seven feet away.
I turned the car on then set about tearing the inside apart trying to figure out where the hell the smell was coming from. There was nothing! A blanket we put on the back seat for Kumo and two hoodies. I even pulled up the carpets to smell them and nothing.
I got back in the car figuring I’d just try to figure it out later but when I got in and closed the door the smell was too strong to try and ignore. Then it dawned on me to check the trunk.
And I opened the trunk. And the smell was so bad it melted the paint off the cars in a 20 mile radius. And there is was: A completely full gallon of milk I bought LAST THURSDAY. Well, by this morning it wasn’t so much milk as a watery substance filled with what looked like a lovely aged mozzarella.
Last Thursday after work I ran to the grocery store thinking that I’d grab a few essentials for the three day weekend, including TWO gallons of milk. When I got home I asked Cassidy to empty my trunk. She emptied it then put all the groceries away for me and I never thought to CHECK because WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG IN THAT PROCESS!? I mean, I figured the worst thing that could have happened is that there would be a can of corn in the peas row. And people, there is NOTHING that drives me more nuts than my canned veggies not to be in order. If I know there is a can in the wrong place I actually have problems falling asleep at night.
I learned my lesson for sure. Friday, Saturday and Sunday my car went pretty much unused but yesterday it sat out in the glaring sun for 9 hours. If you can’t quite wrap your mind around just how insulting that smell would be I invite you to walk to your closest neighbor’s house at high noon, dive head first into their garbage can and take a few minutes to really let the full aroma envelope you. That’s what it felt like driving home from work today.
I did, fior just a plit second, wonder how we were almost out of milk on Sunday morning when I had just gotten TWO gallons on Thursday evening. The answer was that only one of them had made it into the house.
Anybody that tells you not to cry over spilled milk has never actually SMELLED spilled milk.