Yuck!

So I smell this odor. We’re not it the house for very long, 4 weeks max. We just moved in for Christ’s sake, it can’t be that I haven’t cleaned.

I notice this odor on Saturday night. Big Daddy and I are sniffing around the garage and nearby and it just lingers, all the while stankin’ harder.

Sunday night, the smell is really getting worse. I am starting to think that “someone” died in our garage. Ya know, Long Island has critters. Critters that Queens doesn’t have. We have lived on Long Island for 4 years now, but this new neighborhood is more country than these 2 Queens natives are used to. Critters can crawl up in your car and sweat to death in this heat. It’s possible, don’t laugh. That type of crap happens to me you know.

Monday morning (today). The heat is oppressive. I want to go out but the sun is scalding. I have a plan, I’ll take Fa to TJ Maxx to look for sunhats for her gorgeous head. Then we can hang out in the yard. But that smell is following us. I really think that someone has died in the Jeep. I call My Man to let him know of my newest theory on the stink. I notice flies. Shit flies. Yes. In the car. Flying all over. More than one. Five or six or twenty. You know the ones that you can’t believe can grow that fat in only a few hours. How do they do that?

I pull over. I contemplate taking the car to the car wash but I am embarrassed. What if they find someone in my engine? I’ll die. Thoughts of that scene from “Cape Fear” pop into my head. You know the one where Robert DeNiro is hiding under the Jeep…my mind can really wander if I let it, so I get back to reality. I pull into the store’s parking lot and check out the hatch back of my Jeep, praying that I don’t find a furry, decomposing body hidden in its crevices.

Bingo! A “Whole Foods” bag. We went frickin’ food shopping on Saturday morning. I notice amongst the flies, a turkey burger box, a Bell & Evans Chicken Nuggets box, Cream Cheese and a jar of BBQ sauce. I am overcome by mixed emotions; nausea, fear, joy. I want to scream but I don’t want to scare Fa or any other innocent passers by. We must’ve forgotten the frickin’ bag in the car for two days; in the radiating heat of the weekend sun. I can’t stand it. But it does answer my morbid question of what rotting flesh smells like. I never want to go there again.

Don’t hate me, but I left the offending bag in the middle of the parking lot. I couldn’t gather up enough courage to hold it long enough to drag it to the trash…I’m sorry. Please forgive me for my stupidity and ignorance. But I was acting selfish and I had to dispose of the evidence quickly and quietly. If you are wondering what that smell is in the parking lot of TJ Maxx…it was me. I did it.