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.