One cold Friday night in the month of November K. and K. had gone over to their dad's for the night. It had been a long week at work and I was looking forward to the weekend and some relaxation but at the same time I really needed to get into my son's room and clean it while he wasn't around. That way I could bring a garbage bag in and do some serious purging without him witnessing the act when things he hadn't noticed or touched in six months would suddenly become his favorites.
So I compromised with myself, poured myself a glass of Zinfandel, put some music on and went at the task. I had been dreading it so much because it was so long over due, but the wine and the music kicked in and curiously enough I was having a grand old time tackling that shambles of a room.
I was a good 3/4ths of a trash bag into the room when I came across a blue and yellow plastic Easter egg. My kids loooovvved hunting Easter eggs and candy on Easter morning and I always made a practice of counting the Easter eggs and items that I hid so I wouldn't come across any unwanted surprises later on. So, without even thinking, just sort of instintively, I just popped the blue and yellow Easter egg open, expecting to find some eight month old Easter candy in it.
Gaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggg me with a spoon. Baaarfff. Pungent rotten egg sulfur smell permeated the air. I bolted out of the room like there was no tomorrow. For the last eight months an actual hard boiled egg had been decomposing within that innocent looking air tight plastic egg.
And that my friends, is hopefully the last time I will celebrate Easter in November.
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4 comments:
I love cleaning my sons room. I usually pass the time by counting the stale socks I find. But so far no rotten egg...so far. This post made me laugh. Did you mean to post about rotten easter eggs right after the dead bunny? LOL!
Sorry Rita, but I have to side with K on this one.
If my mom had EVER come near my room with a trash bag in her hand I would have shunned the family name and start telling people I was adopted. LOL
Fned.
Rachel,
I'm glad you got a chuckle out of the story. I will admit that posting about the dead bunny was the thing that triggered the recollection of this other story.
fned,
Aha! That is why I only did it when he was not around. Plus the fact that he was about six or seven years old at the time.
Now, at 22 he is living back at home while attending a local college and I will say that at times I get very tempted to take a garbage bag down to his room but I fight the urge and hand him the bag instead. Besides, I would now truly fear what rotten things might be lurking down there.
He and his 18 year old step brother occupy the rooms downstairs (it's kind of a look out level). My husband and I refer to them as the "bottom dwellers!"
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