At 4:30 in the morning, the last thing I want to have to say is, "Honey, do you smell that?" But say that I did.
One of many things I inherited from my mother is a strong sense of smell. It makes it hard to just walk through life blissfully unaware of the unpleasantness that may surround me. AND it often wakes me in the middle of the night asking, "Do you smell that?" I suppose it may come in handy one day should there ever be a fire or gas leak. This morning, however, was not a case of life or death...at least for me.
My outcry went unattended. My husband who is the locator of all things stinky assured me that there was in no way any source of stinkiness in house, so I as a good a loving wife accepted his odor report and went on with my sleep.
Unfortunately, my darling loving husband does not have the odor detector that I have, so after he left for early morning Bible study, I went to wake my son to get him ready for school. That's when it hit me...that strong smell of old grass. And there it was, a nice gift from the dog waiting for me on my son's floor.
Several thoughts went through my mind.
1. Call my still sleeping daughter since it is her dog.
2. Leave it for my husband to find when he gets home.
3. Pick it up. Bag it and leave it under my husband's pillow.
4. Pick it up. Bag it and complain about on my blog.
Well the vengeance in my heart was beaten out by my desire to not have World War III in my house. That and my love writing lead me to pick it up myself and put it in the dumpster.
Here's the proof:
Dear G, I hope you had a great bible study. When you get home tonight, you and I will have long discussion about the merits of listening to me when I say, "I smell something." Love, Me