I'm sure you recall that Mrs. HM doesn't ask for much. That the soda fountain at the Gas Station Chicken Store have Diet Coke.
That T-Hoe keeps air in all four tires. That I don't sit in poop on my
toilet seat. That a TV dinner contain the items shown on the box. That my Country Mart 8-piece chicken have two of each appendage. AND that the seat in A-Cad stays in my set position!
Tuesday morning, I opened A-Cad's passenger door to climb in, for a trip with Farmer H to a casino town that harbors a delectable (for him) pawn shop that deals in munitions. I slung my left leg into the car, started to plop my ample rumpus onto the seat, and recoiled with discomfort.
"WHO has been in my car NOW? I can't even get in without throwing out my back. The seat was moved."
"NOBODY has been in the car, HM. Not since we got back from Oklahoma. OH. Wait. THIS GUY and THIS GUY'S WIFE were in it. For the hospital. But I moved it back."
"Obviously, you didn't." I said while pushing the lever and sliding back the seat.
"Well. I moved it up so one could ride in the back easier."
"Ooh! It stinks! Every time I open up the door, this car still smells new. But NOW it smells dirty! It stinks!"
"Their house is not dirty, HM. It's clean enough to eat off the floor."
"Everybody's house has a smell. OURS smells like a clogged up drain. Because we have a clogged up drain. Or a dry trap, as you call it. Every time we come back from somewhere, I notice it. But this car stinks."
"It's in your head."
"I didn't even realize you'd been driving them in this car. The last I heard, you took THIS GUY'S WIFE up to the hospital in your truck. Following the ambulance."
"I did."
"The next day, and the next, you talked about her leaving a bag of his clothes in your truck."
"When he got released, I took the car."
I put down my window a crack, trying to let some of the bad air out. It was an old, musty, cooped-up smell. I couldn't leave it down on the highway, and Farmer H wouldn't leave them cracked at the casino, but when he went in places, I made him put down his window, and mine.
"We've got to get this smell out. It could have had the windows down in the garage. That might have helped."
"It doesn't smell."
"YES. It DOES. Like when I noticed the stink in SilverRedO, and then you pointed out the bag of clothes from your storage units that you were taking to wash."
"Huh. Maybe it was those framed beer signs I showed you. They were laying out here since I bought them."
Those beer posters are in Genius's room right now, waiting to be sold. I guess our house will have a different smell now.
Ah, smells. Stinky smells. There are plenty of smells to enjoy in middle school...
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteDon't I know it! Even more than at the high school. Although at Newmentia, we had more than our fair share of assorted toe cheeses aged in a sneaker.
Houses do have a distinctive smell, my kids house smells like mould. Because there is mould in the plumbing and probably behind the tiles surrounding the bath and under the flooring too. I'm allergic to mould. And I knew my ex-the-first was smoking again even though he swore he wasn't, because the car that had been shut up all night, reeked of smoke the next morning as he drove me to work. That was the day I had my first real asthma attack, kneeling on the floor by my work table, eyes streaming, coughing up my lungs. I phoned him at his workplace and made him go all the way home to get my new inhaler and bring it to me.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteI think people get used to living in their smell, and don't notice it. As for the smoking, smokers never notice that they smell. I guess it AFFECTS their sense of smell! Good for you, making him get your inhaler.