Skip to main content

Prepper

 I really wanted to walk Sawyer into his classroom on his first day of school.  I imagined getting to watch him greet his teacher, helping him get his backpack situated, and tucking him into his seat before saying goodbye.  Then I imagined it again with his three small siblings hanging off me, and it wasn't nearly as sweet.  It spurred me to swallow my pride and ask a friend for help.

We have the greatest neighbors where we live.  I know people who do not, so I feel extra fortunate.  It was a neighbor that I asked to watch our youngest three kids while I took Sawyer to school.  I wouldn't be gone long, and I knew Fischer could be a good helper.  

The day before school started, I had a handful of projects I was trying to wrap up, plus I was hoping to get the house semi-clean.  The last time we asked this friend to come up, I was jetting off to the ER and the house was in shambles.  I wanted to make a half-way respectable impression.  Yes, we often live in a pile of filth and chaos, but occasionally, we don't.  Occasionally.  

As I was picking up toys and sweeping up ants, I was also prepping some green beans inside and melting beef fat in the hopes of making tallow on a burner outside.  I got a little distracted, and the tallow got a little hot.  It got a lot hot, actually.  I know you aren't supposed to let it boil, but I thought maybe it would be fine.  I brought it in, and it smelled a little funky.  I thought it might just be me.  I asked Ross his opinion.  He said he couldn't smell anything.

Until he could.  And it smelled bad.  Very bad.  

I immediately put the lid back on and took it out of the house.  We opened windows and doors and turned on fans.  It was rotten.  So rotten.  It smelled like a combination of death and the most terrible farts you can imagine (it's crass, but accurate).  And I wasn't done.  

The house still needed cleaning.  The floor was so sticky from every number of things; I couldn't let it go another day.  I pulled out the mop bucket, but I was out of floor cleaner so I combined water and vinegar and went to town cleaning the floors throughout the house.  Of course, the smell of vinegar just settles in as well.  The floors looked better, but it didn't help the odor situation.    

Needless to say, I went to bed with the scent of pickled-fart and death burning my nostrils, and wondered how I still have friends.  

(Note: By the morning the house had aired out, or we had gotten used to it...)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

Triple Threat

 People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong.  We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror.  It's true.  Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging.   Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands.  We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store.  The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale.  Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing.  That's when I realized Carterror had arrived.  I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy.   "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom.   "My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt.  A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine parapher...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...
4 comments
Read more