Home Sweet Hell- Behind the Dishwasher

Thanks for answering my questions about why you read mommy blogs and your family's involvement with your children. I got your emails and all your comments and I'm sorry I haven't responded properly. This virus.. oh this virus! I'm not really coherent yet. You've given me a lot to think about and we'll talk more when I can think again.

I could put the ick in graphic by describing what's been exploding out of various body parts of my family the past week, but I like you.

Instead, I wish to you entertain you with ickiness of another kind.

The following post was written before the Oh No, I Don't Think So virus hit our home. So named because just when you think you're feeling better, the virus taunts, "Oh no, I don't think so" and laughs as you race to the bathroom.

Kind of funny that this post is about yucky odors. So erase thoughts of my sick family as you read what I wrote last week....



I know you come here for glamorous tales of my rich and fabulous life in the fast lane. Today's post will not disappoint.

Wooooo weee the smell that's been in this house! I can only describe it as wet basement meets moldy green beans meets frog-egg covered pond in the heat of august. Hungry?

The smell hovered between the kitchen and the back bathroom, which share a wall. Two areas where you don't want bad smells. Cuz then people come over and think the nasty food you're cooking is giving you serious intestinal distress. That's why you'll always find a scented candle burning when you visit. I want the world to think my family smells of lilacs and cinnamon buns.

Since we don't have a basement, cuz we're the only idiots in Missouri who would buy a home without a basement, I went into a complete panic, thinking the pipes under the foundation had sprung a leak. You know, in an area of the house only accessible by a jack hammer and a lot of tears.

Situations like that only happen to people who hate their houses. The dollars fly right out the window when you realize you were an idiot for buying the wrong house. Oh yay, I'm sinking another 5 grand into a house I can't stand! Girl, please. Let's just light a match and walk away. No one will ever know...

Matt pulled out some cabinets and the dishwasher and to much relief, discovered we had an easy to access leak that required the expert of a plumber to fix. But. BUT. Guess what was in the water that had accumulated behind the dishwasher?

The larvae of sewer flies.

Oh yes, sewer flies made our leak their wakka wakka wow love shack. Globular masses of teeny white eggs, glistening and shimmering with life that is born from the depths of stanky, nasty ass water and problems that cost hundreds of dollars to fix.

And me without a spoon.

The plumber that arrived to fix the leak(S!) looked a lot like my husband. So much, in fact, that little Avie kept walking up to hand him members of her prized Little People collection. Avie. The one who's completely terrified of human beings.

Juna's newest words are naked and mailman and Avie's unusually friendly with the plumber.

Now if Miss Boo starts calling the UPS guy daddy, Matt is going to get very very worried.