So last, night, as I was sitting on the floor in the doorway of our bedroom doing this:

I happened to keep getting some pretty unpleasant whiffs of something particularly smelly.

I say that nicely.

What I wanted to say was that, oh my goodness, something somewhere near me smelled absolutely positively disgusting. Flat out: it reeked.

There I said it.

I feel better now.

And I looked all around and decided I didn’t know what it was so it was best not to say anything.

After all, maybe Hubs had, ahem, eaten something that didn’t agree with him and he was now having some…er… smelly after effects. Or maybe I needed a shower really REALLY bad.

Heck, it could have also been all in my head.

Except that it wasn’t all in my head because I just. kept. smelling. it.

Ick.

And now it sorta started to develop into an actual smell.

It smelled sour.

Wet.

Sweaty.

Dirty.

Smelly.

So I investigated further.

And lo and behold, I found this.

OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS, THIS MIGHT BE WHAT WILL BECOME OUR SECOND BIGGEST FIGHT EVER.

Yup, that’s right. It’s a bag. More specifically, Hubs’ bag.

Hubs’ bag from last Wednesday.

Hubs’ bag from LAST WEDNESDAY that he took TO THE LAKE AND FILLED WITH WET CLOTHES and LEFT ON THE FLOOR OF OUR BEDROOM. FOR 6 DAYS.

Wet, smelly, lake-water clothes that have been in an ENCLOSED BAG FOR 6 DAYS?!?!

Did I say OH MY HOLY MOLY GOODNESS GRACIOUS yet?

Yea.

It was bad.

I thought I was going to scream.

I bet you guys thought I was going to scream, too.

But I didn’t.

I did say lots of things in a rather firm voice.

But I did not yell.

Ask Hubs.

He’ll tell you I was pretty calm. Sorta.

All things considering.

He laughed.

I laughed.

And then, to his credit, Hubs got up and and took the bag to the washer. And he did the load of laundry that needed to be done. And we moved on with our night. And our lives.

But you better believe this is a memory I’ll remind him of when we have a son who leaves his sports equipment on the stairs causing Hubs to trip and fall and bruise his tuchas.

I’ll say, “He’s your son. Remember when you left that bag of disgusting lake clothes out for a week and it almost gagged me because it smelled so bad when I found it? Yup, he gets this trait from you.”

And then, of course, he’ll remind me of the time I left the pile of laundry out for 4 days that was almost as high as our bed and that I got so annoyed by that I started talking to it?

What a pair, huh?

And then I’ll help him up and go get an ice pack.

But for now, while Hubs is doing the laundry, I’m going to get an ice cream. And wait for our next crazy-wonderful adventure in this married life to begin.