Saturday, August 16, 2008

Sour Milk

I am in a blogging frenzie. Anyway.

I was just on the phone with my aunt when I caught a whiff of something bad. I have the house to myself for the week, and though I haven't accumulated enough dishes where I have needed to wash them (I've only had breakfast at home. I've been working and sleeping for the last week), I have rinsed each off and I couldn't think what the stench was. I glanced around the area, and noticed a tea pot that was on the table from when my mom had company over... before she left. Next to it was a small milk pitcher. From before she left (four days ago). Now, I can handle baby diapers. I can deal with animal waste (I've been the family doggy doo scooper since I was 5). I have picked up roadkill from the side of the road, which is a rather long story. I can hold someone's hair back when they're sick. But I don't do spoilt milk. There's this gag reflex, and I just feel like holding my own hair back. I think it's mostly the stench, but it's also partly the visual. Milk just shouldn't look like that.

Anyway, the "milk" is down the garbarator (which ran about 2 minutes till I was sure I could smell nothing). I am now doing all dishes and clearing every surface of this kitchen, so help me. If there is anything that was not found before, it will be found now.


rachel shea said...

Chelsea, Chelsea, you make me laugh.
I'm glad that you discovered the milk before it got too bad...
my dad once found a glass in my sister's room that had stunk up our whole basement. it was cheese, literally.
hope that didn't turn your stomach :P

Becky and Patrick said...

"garbarator" is a much cooler word than "garbage disposal." i am going to start calling it that instead. how is everything miss chelsea? besides the smelly milk of course. (which by the way i will clean up milk any day over holding someone's hair back. that is the only act of love i just can't do.)