Smells that last a lifetime
Friday, June 20, 2008
I picked the kids up from their summer program last evening, and the youngest was complaining of a migraine. He gets these from time to time, but there was nothing I could do until we got home, five minutes away. But I knew I was in trouble when he informed me, "I think I'm going to barf."
(For the record, any time a child includes the words "I think" and anything remotely related to a bodily function, you take them at their word.)
We were still two minutes from home when it happened. You haven't lived until you've been hit in the back of the head with projectile vomit. Or, at least, you'll wish you weren't alive. As if the slimy goodness in my hair wasn't enough, a good portion of the car's interior was also coated. And let me tell you, that's a smell you could happily live your entire life without smelling. But now its been permanently ingrained into the car.
It's probably like an apartment where an elderly somebody died and wasn't discovered for a few weeks until the neighbors start complaining about the smell. You can clean, paint and replace carpet all you want, but the smell will not go away.
So I cleaned out the car as best I could under the circumstances, and I Febreezed several times. It's not nearly so bad, but it still lingers, almost subconciously, like an evil inverted tease.
I think I'm going to barf.