Tonight, I was busy in the kitchen baking biscuits, frying eggs and heating sausage for 50-ish sausage/egg/biscuits for a fund raiser tomorrow. I'd left the dinner dishes on the table. The kitchen was a mess with me everywhere in it. I saw Reed out of the corner of my eye come to the trash can with his lunch box. Ok, it's about time he decided to empty it. I saw it in his backpack two or more days ago, but in the fleeting moment that I saw it as I was zipping his backpack on his back while he was walking out the door, I didn't think anything of it other than, we need to check that when he gets home. That thought was long forgotten.
Back to the present. Me working stuffing biscuits and him lingering near the trash can. Then it happened. Everything came to a screeching halt. What the heck was that smell? Oh.my.goodness. It was soooo very bad. Like nothing I've ever smelled before or EVER want to smell again. So.bad. Really.bad.
He had opened up his little divided container which ...
Let me try to remember when the last time I actually packed his lunch and he took it to school was. It wasn't last week. He was out all last week with his mystery illness.
Think. Was it the week before?
I don't even think it was the week before because I have truly been a slacker mom as of late and they've been eating in the cafeteria.
Three weeks ago? Geez... that seems like a lifetime for a half eaten - oh I hate to say it, but at least you didn't have to smell it - a half eaten boiled egg. My nose burns just typing it. Oh.my.goodness.... that was such a horrific smell.
I immediately thought of the food handlers course that volunteers are to attend for preparation of food for the public. Oh, sure, I was doing all the right things, but then there was this horrific smell that filled my nostrils and had made me question tossing everything that was present in my kitchen. I walked over to him and held my breath as I looked at his cute little divided plastic container for his lunchbox from the Daiso store. The lunchbox that I tell him everyday when I do pack his lunch to empty when he finishes or gets home. Oh, the egg. The cheese/cracker that was meshed with the egg so much so that it was barely recognizable. Did I mention the smell? Then, my mind went back to sippy cups that we'd found under beds half full of juice or milk and mold and my decisions then to toss them rather than attempt to clean them because I'd have to actually touch them to clean them.
Then the smell brought me immediately back to reality. And my decision.
"Throw the container away too." (We'll go buy another one for 4,000 Korean won if we really want another one.
"Now. Toss it."
"And take the trash out, too! Right now!"
When he came back into the house, right behind G-Dub who walked in and said, "What's that smell?" I couldn't help but mutter something under my breath about Templeton's egg. Ugh, we had found it. And it wasn't pretty. Take my word for it.
If I ever meet the man who invented Lysol. I'm going to thank him profusely. And I will probably not want a boiled egg anytime soon.