After being gone several days, I was eager to see my family. Bailey was waiting at the side door excited to show me his latest medal he won and the dogs were in a frenzy. I, however, was distracted by a permeating scent. What is that God awful smell? I was fixated on the location of the aroma, and pretended to be present as I hugged my husband and listened to Bryce babble on about the latest news from his rehearsal for his first high school play.
Finally, I said it out loud, “What is that awful smell,” and I received three blank stares. There was a stain on the rug that was not there when I left. Could that be the source? No, as I was informed that Brian had just spilled tea and that he had already scrubbed it will a stain remover, so it was simply drying. I armed myself with Febreeze and searched the house. I sprayed every nook and cranny to eliminate the source of the stench. Still, my nose could pick up the smell.
As I scurried around the house like a crazy person, I noticed my family appearing amused. Finishing my lap spritzing the air with a fragrant aroma, I opened the pantry door and hoped that maybe the garbage was the source. I implored Bailey to take out the trash while I soaked the area with my fragrant weapon. I was at a loss. What is that smell? Where is it coming from? Do people come into my home and inhale this deplorable scent? Are they talking behind my back believing that I don’t keep a clean and odor free home?
The weariness from traveling overpowered me and I reluctantly surrendered. My family breathed a sigh of relief and I heard Bailey whisper, “Well, Mom’s back,”. I chalked up the stench as a intense build-up of testosterone and prayed that I simply haven’t become nose blind.
Square Peg, Round Hole 