Remember back in this post (http://greenroomthoughts.blogspot.com/2007/05/self-indulgence.html) when I said I was a horrible housekeeper?
Well, operationally, this means that upon occasion science experiments grow unhampered in the refrigerator, and crusty, fetid dishes wobble in stacks on the counters and in both sinks. If you want to have a bowl of cereal you have to first wash a bowl and a spoon.
So. This was the dire situation in my kitchen on Wednesday. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. A couple of hours and an 42 ounces of Palmolive later, you could actually see the counter-tops. The redolence of bacterial life forms had been replaced by the bouquet of scented candles on a platter artfully centerpiecing the kitchen table.
A. Peevie came home from school and headed to the kitchen for his snack. Moments later he ran out screaming and flailing his arms. "What's that horrible smell?!" he screeched. "It's gross in there! It smells sick!! Get it OUT!"
The boy would rather smell crusty batches of nature than white gardenia truffle and coral hibiscus. There's no accounting for taste. Or smell, rather.