For the better part of a week I have been complaining of a smell in the laundry room. We have diligently washed clothes. I have searched cabinets. On Wednesday, I was convinced it was a dead mouse. The smell was bad. Last night when I arrived home my house smelled terrible. Joey had himself already turned the laundry room upside down. I had a fear deep down my deep freeze was failing me. Through numorous gag sessions and a questionable stickly floor, we found the culprit, sort of. Whatever it was existed, or non existed, judging by the smell in a cloth clothes hamper. We( and by that I mean Joey) tossed it on the back porch and it became cause for curiosity as the smell was just sickening. My son was already dry heaving but the girls thought it was funny. In a quick swoop Joey dumps it and we all stand there and study a grocery store bag full of something covered in a brown liquid (gag and double gag). Then Joey announces it was a bag of chicken. I normally would've been upset. I would have seen $ signs blowing in the wind, or rottening in a bag! (gross I know! :) ) BUT, to watch my husband dry heave over one side of the porch and the boy tossing cookies off the other side, was pretty priceless. I doubt it would make a credit card comermercial, but I almost sure this day will go down in history as, "The day we found the brown chicken!".
p.s. I have a strong need to revisit my vegitarian diet for a few weeks.