Door #1 - Sunday AM
Me: 'Hmmm. Is J burning the fire pit this morning? Where's TT3?'
D: 'Ug.' Focuses more intently on gun show.
Me: 'No really, What's That Smell?'
TT1: 'MOM! THE KITCHENS ON FIRE THE KITCHENSONFIREHURRYUPITSBURNING!! TT3 set the kitchen stove on fire!'
D: comes off couch like rocket in butt.
TT1: waves charring red towel around 'I found it, it's this thing!'
Me: from the couch, 'TT1 don't wave the towel around you'll make it flame up!'
D: 'Geez babe, don't get up or anything.'
Me: 'You've got this Mr. Fireman.'
As we ponder how in the heck TT3 was able to set a towel on fire when not even in the room, our heighted and honed powers of investigation revealed that:
a) TT3 hates towels hanging on the oven handle
b) He yanks them down and tosses them high
c) It is entirely possible that TT3 threw the towel onto the stove
d) TT3 was observed climbing the stove to play with the knobs, so yes, TT3 did, in fact, set fire to the kitchen.
And 3 hours later, I attack the pile of dishes in my sink, and find, buried in the middle, the scorched towel and a pot holder. No wonder it still smelled like fire in the kitchen.
Door #2 - Sunday PM
Me: 'Ugh, why does it smell like a$$ in here? TT2 did you fart?'
TT2: 'Nope, not yet.'
Me: 'Boys, upstairs, PJ's and bed. And throw down all the dirty clothes.'
Boys gleefully pitch every article of clothing they can reach over the railing. Extra points if you get chonies stuck in a decorative wall hanging.
Now the smell is downstairs. And it's fermenting. ICK.
Me: 'Boys!!! WHAT IS THAT DISGUSTING SMELL?? I thought I told you to bring anything peed-on down immediately!'
Boys, in chorus: 'Idunno. ME! Maybe pee? The cat peed on it. Not me. ME!'
Boys in bed, I attack pile of laundry. Of course, I neglect to turn on extra light, because TT3 will just start howling. Then, IT HAPPENED. I grabbed something squishy, clammy and smelly.
D: sigh 'What now?'
Me: 'Squishy laundry! What's that smell! NASTY!'
D: 'Snuck one by ya again huh?'
Thanks babe, for that insight. Oh, and you can clean that corner of carpet where the nasty squishy smelly pee chonies, shorts and shirt were fermenting under the wet bath towel and piles of dry yet boy-sweaty clothing for Maude knows how long. This is what Maude thinks of fermented pee-smell: