One Easter I took my girlfriend to my parents house for dinner. We had ham, deviled eggs, and baked beans. Afterword we just went out for a drive, and wandered up into the mountains where a new neighborhood was being developed--houses were in progress but no one lived there yet. And it stunk. It was vile. She theorized there was a dead animal, or a backup in the sewer system ...
... but it was me ...
The deviled eggs and beans chemically conspired in my belly to convert my digestive tract into a clandestine, invisible, and silent chemical weapons program.
That was more than 20 years ago. I married that girl. To this day if someone says they are looking at a home in that area, she warns them that sometimes the wind changes, and ushers in a wave that smells like someone scraped a roadkill skunk off the asphalt one hot July afternoon, and used it as toilet paper. One day over the summer my son and I went up there for a bike ride, and she worried if we could exert ourselves in that thick putrescence. She tried to warn us away.
And it's too late to confess, right?
... but it was me ...
The deviled eggs and beans chemically conspired in my belly to convert my digestive tract into a clandestine, invisible, and silent chemical weapons program.
That was more than 20 years ago. I married that girl. To this day if someone says they are looking at a home in that area, she warns them that sometimes the wind changes, and ushers in a wave that smells like someone scraped a roadkill skunk off the asphalt one hot July afternoon, and used it as toilet paper. One day over the summer my son and I went up there for a bike ride, and she worried if we could exert ourselves in that thick putrescence. She tried to warn us away.
And it's too late to confess, right?
