You know how much you hate it when your sinuses are all clogged up due to allergies and even when you cook a really awesome meal like baked chicken in lemon juice with potatoes, you can’t enjoy the smell or taste of it because your stupid nose is not working?!
Mine cleared up. About 14.6 seconds before my son decided to have a fart-fest in the living room and attempt to kill us all. My sinuses cleared out about the time the green cloud wafted across the room and bitch-slapped me. Of course, this left four of us pinching our noses closed and yelling and the responsible party in a fit of giggles. (Thankfully, Randa was asleep in another room and didn’t have to suffer like the rest of us.) Could that have been the end of the night?
Of course, not. This is MY life.
The reeking odor nauseated Samiya, who was already feeling under the weather. She complained to me holding her stomach that Ismail farted and that she literally felt like puking. I directed her to the bathroom. She didn’t make it past the door and left an even smellier trail of chicken that hadn’t been chewed very well. I got her cleaned up and changed and off to bed. I cleaned up the big mess and then remembered that she may get ill again during the night and that perhaps I should put a bucket next to her bed. Only the bucket had a really dirty towel in it that I’d decided to wash by hand. It’s a bathmat type towel and I use it to mop up spills on the kitchen floor because the ‘genius’ who built this apartment put very smooth wall tiles on the floor and I slip a lot.
I had put laundry detergent in the bucket filled it with water and threw the towel in around 9 this morning. Well, it’s nearly 4 a.m. (Yeah, I don’t sleep much.) So, I figured that I’d just rinse the towel very well and then wash it again in the washing machine tomorrow to get it really clean now that all of the sand and salt and stuff that had been all over it had now been soaked out of it. So I tossed the towel into the sink and then spilled the soapy water all over the floor and pushed it down the open drain with my giant squeegee thingy. And then I rinsed it and squeegeed again. Then I yelled at Ismail, “DID YOU FART AGAIN?”
He swore he hadn’t. I did what I NEVER should have done. In fact, as I did it my brain began screaming at me, “NO! You idiot! DON’T DO IT! STOPPPPPPPPPPPP!” But of course, my body was like, “You’re not the boss of me! I’ll do what I want to!” And it didn’t listen. And that’s about the time my hand holding that nasty ass towel reached my nose and I inhaled so deeply to see if that was the source of stink I was smelling that my lungs filled to capacity.
My body immediately apologized to my brain. My brain gave my body the finger.
So in the last 20 minutes that my nasal passages have decided to drop their strike, I’ve managed to smell giant teenager farts, barfed up chicken and rotten backwater towel! Why in the hell couldn’t they have started working when I was baking that chicken earlier today???!!!!