Is it Gas? Is it Pork? The Nose Knows!


Because it’s late and I’m tired….here’s a throwback.

A month or two ago, I began smelling something awful funky emanating from my bathroom. Now, because it’s a bathroom after all, I attributed the odor to, you know, the stuff that goes on in there.

Not the typical stuff that goes on in there, mind you – I mean the peste coming out of there was ridiculous. But I thought maybe the hubby had eaten something that died inside of him. So, to avoid embarrassing him, I didn’t really broach the subject right away.

But a few days later, I figured I HAD to say something. Because if it was him that smell was coming out of, something was wrong with him and he needed to seek medical attention as soon as possible.

So I mentioned the stench to him in as nice a way possible and told him that it’s been like that for days. He looked at me like I was insane and told me that there was no smell. So…I took that to mean that it WAS him!

I began to worry. And to make sure his life insurance policy was up to date. And listed me as a beneficiary. But I digress.

I let it go for another few days. I figured as long as it was contained to the bathroom, I could maybe deal. Until one day I came home and as soon as I opened the front door, the foulness of the odor almost knocked me over and I had had enough. Hurt feelings or no, I had to bring it up again, for all our sakes.

I told him, in no uncertain terms, that there was a horrid odor coming from the bathroom and it had now permeated the entire house. I asked him if maybe I should just call a repair man…a plumber…911. I also told him that if he couldn’t smell it, there was something wrong with him. That the next time someone came over, I was going to ask if they smelled something too – to prove to him that it wasn’t just me.

We even came home one night and the smell was so bad in the driveway when
we got out of the car that I almost passed out. He said it smelled like lechon. Something’s seriously wrong with him.

I mean, my whole life I’ve been teased about having a big nose. And I admit that it wasn’t until fairly recently that I began to accept and embrace my ski slope schnoz. On the one hand, it’s a hindrance because strong odors bother me more than they do others. But on the other, it’s a godsend, allowing me to smell when things are burning. Or when we’re potentially being killed slowly.

So the other day, my sister came over and remarked, “what the hell is that smell?!?” And I said, “AHA!!!” Vindication!! At last!

Gas leakThe hubby finally relented and decided to take me seriously. He went outside to check and then nonchalantly said that it was possibly a gas leak. To which I retorted, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN A GAS LEAK? SHOULDN’T WE BE WORRIED? ARE WE GOING TO DIE???”

He calmly replied, “Why don’t you call the gas company tomorrow?” And I’m thinking to myself, “Is he kidding me? Why don’t YOU call the gas company? And TOMORROW??”

Of course, as many of you know, I am incredibly sleep deprived and it’s a miracle I’m functioning at all so by the time I get the little ones dressed and carry them out to the car screaming and crying and get to work. I sort of forget that we’re slowly being poisoned at home.

Until today. I finally set an alarm on my phone to remind me to call. So I did.

My conversation with the lady at the gas company went something like this:

Me: I think there’s a gas leak.

Her: what makes you say that?

Me: It smells like something died in my bathroom and my husband said that when he went outside to check, he suspected a leak.

Her: But you can’t see gas.

Me: Listen lady, I don’t know what he looked at or how he knows there’s a leak. All I know is the smell is unbearable and it’s been like that for over a month.

This is my favorite part…..

Her: Will someone over the age of 18 be home to meet us in the next 30 minutes?

Me: Yes.

Her: OK, if there’s anything plugged in or turned in inside the home, DO NOT turn it off. If you’re talking to me on a landline, put the phone down and I will disconnect the call on my end. Do not use your cell phone near the bathroom. Do not light a match or smoke anywhere near the side of the house where your bathroom is located. Do not start your car near that side of the house. Do not turn anything on, either. Please step outside of your home immediately and wait for the technician outside but not near the area of the suspected leak.

And I’m simultaneously thinking to myself:

1. Oh shit! and

2. What part of it’s been smelling like that for over a month did you not understand? My smoker hubby smokes on that side of the house ALL the time! The cars are parked on THAT side of the house – where they’re started. Every day. I use my cell in the shitter all the time. This morning even. Are you trying to tell me that we could have blown up at any moment??

I rush over to meet the guy at the house and explain everything to him and he checks the meter and sure as shit….the damn thing is leaking.

The moral of the story? My freaking hubby should know better by now….he should listen to me. Because the Nose Knows. Well, that and because I’m always right ;0)


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