Thursday, I opened the pantry door and a little whiff of a certain kind of funky, foul odor came wafting out. Blech! I sniffed around and finally came to the conclusion that it must be a dead mouse. When you live in the country, dead mice come with the territory.
Friday, I opened the pantry door and a kapow! Same smell, much stronger this time. I sniffed around again and unable to see any cans or boxes leaking, I decided that it had to be that dead mouse. He's a real stinker.
Saturday, I opened the pantry door and I almost got knocked to the floor. I actually gagged a little. So, I said to my dude, "Man! Something in the pantry stinks!" The discussion then turned to what we thought it must be and surely it wasn't a mouse because the smell should have dissipated some. Then he said, "What about the potatoes?" Oh. My. Gosh. How could I have not thought about those? I looked at the bag of taters sitting in a bin to my right. They looked okay, no long ugly eye sprouts and they didn't look mushy. Then I picked up the bag. Jump back, Loretta! I had indeed found the source and oh, wow, it was awful! More gagging followed. All I can say is, thank goodness for Lysol!
Yeah, it was BAD!! I have another story about an awful smell that was worse than this one, but I'll save it for another day :)
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