What Is That Smell?!?

I have no quirky intro for this one. The title says it all.

I had a pretty good day, yesterday, after digging the quarter out of the toilet and all. I spent the afternoon visiting with a neighbor. Audrey and Hannah went down for their naps like champs. And, I got to watch some t.v. that wasn't sports related, nor Disney or PBS. It was a pretty good day.

After I got home from picking Madelyn up from school, I cleaned the kitchen. I wiped the counters down, loaded the dishwasher, and cranked it on. The house echoed with the woosh-swoosh of one of the best inventions known to motherhood.

Hannah brought me her flash cards. She has some with pictures on them so she can learn the names of things around her. She mastered these almost a year ago, but she has begun using the cards to make up stories. She lays them out and tells me how each card fits into the plot. It is very entertaining.

Madelyn was busy designing dresses. She is my fashionista and spends her time nurturing her creative juices.

After about forty minutes of relaxing with the family, I went in to the kitchen to get supper organized. Or, at least to get it out of the freezer.  I was immediately repulsed by the smell in the kitchen.

"Eww, honey. What is that smell? It smells like burnt plastic. It smells like someone has left an emergency brake on or an electrical fire." Yes, I know exactly what it smells like when the emergency brake is left on. My husband does it all the time. I may have done it a few.  It was on my tractor, though. So, the lack of cab and the open wheel made it evident quickly.  Anyway, I digress...

Jay comes in right behind me.

"Unplug everything," he says.  We start sniffing the air like bassett hounds.  We unplug everything but the refrigerator, dishwasher and stove.

"Should I call housing and report it?" I am always wanting to report everything.

"No, stay close, but give it a moment. See if it goes away or gets stronger."

"Alright."

We go into the living room, but I can't concentrate on the girls.  I am actually worried. Images of our house in flames and us standing on the sidewalk circle my head. I get up and march right back in there, determined to figure it out.

I sniff everywhere.  I sniff until the point where I can't smell anything strange at all.  I open the coffee container and take a deep whiff.  That clears me up! I can smell the strange smell again.  It was near the sink.  So I sniff around that.  I sniff up high, then I sniff down low.

WHAM! It hits me on my way to the down low. About hip high. At the sink. Garbage disposal? I didn't unplug that. I hung my head down and just hovered there inhaling the plastic smell. Humph. I have no idea.

While my head was there, I thought about how Hannah likes to turn the 'Heat Dry' off on my dishwasher. This irritates me. I like things to be dry and non-spotty when I open the dishwasher.

THE HEATING ELEMENT IN THE DISHWASHER!

I yell at Jay that I found it.  I open the dishwasher and there in the bottom, the top of one of my plastic travel coffee mugs was laying across the heating element.  It had blown off the top rack and landed there.  It was melting. It was melting quickly. And it was stinky.

I was so bummed. It was the lid to my BeautiControl coffee mug. It was my favorite. Tupperware made it specifically for BeautiControl one month and I was only able to get one of them. Humph.

Jay retrieved it for me and ran cold water over it in the sink.

"Wait! Do you think you can mold it back? Just push the warm plastic back together. Then we can screw it on to the mug to re-thread it!" I acted like I was joking. But this woman doesn't joke when it comes to her coffee and her coffee mug.

He was gentle. He laid it in the sink, placed his hand on my back and quietly called time of death: 1646 hrs.

We hung our heads, and slowly walked to the trash can. We buried it beneath a paper towel.  The mug followed later this morning. I couldn't keep them apart. They have been together too long to deprive one of the other.

As I sat on the couch, reflecting on all the wonderful memories we shared together, I could only think of one comforting phrase.

This, too, shall pass.

I just wished the smell went away as fast.  Yuck.

I still think Jay could have salvaged it... :)