Some children do ‘ave ‘em

My mom came to visit yesterday. We don’t get to see each other nearly enough, and when we do it always seems rushed.

To make a long story short, her car stinks. It was stinky on (Canadian) Thanksgiving, and we did a quick search for the source of the horrible smell and came up empty handed. This time, however, she asked me to get the car’s manual out of the glovebox because a light was going on and she wasn’t sure what it was for. So, lucky me, I opened the box and this incredible stench came flowing out and I almost threw up. There was a clear plastic bag with…something wrapped in it and, my God, worst smell ever. We both started getting a little hysterical, but because we were in the midst of heavy traffic on College St, there was nothing to be immediately done. Lucky for us both, a red light at University Ave allowed me to leap out of the car, dash to the garbage bin and throw the offending bag out.

Didn’t make much difference. And she still wanted me to read that darn manual, which I refused, as it was completely tainted with the stink. And despite the cold day, we rode the rest of the way to Em’s with the windows down. She claims to have a poor sense of smell, but it was alarming how bad it was. Think of dead mice that someone shit on to keep the smell down. Then it all fell into a vat of rotten milk. Definitely in my top five worst things I have ever smelt ever list.