Stinky, Stanky, Stunk... or, Rasputin dies once more

Every time we travel, we come home to a stinky house.

Without fail, when we walk in the door after a day or more away, weary from the road, we are greeted with that sweet, sweet aroma of home... a la dead animal.  And it reeks.

Even when we take out the trash, wash all the dishes, double flush the toilet, and leave the house impeccably clean (by our kid-house standards).  "Never leave me again," our house pleads.  Serious separation anxiety, that one.

This last time was so bad - and so inexplicable - that we panicked a bit and polled a few willing-to-be-honest, super-sniffer, regular-guest friends to ensure that we hadn't gone nose blind and it didn't smell like that *all* the time.  Assured that no, it doesn't smell like dead animal all the time - just occasionally the goes-with-the-territory odors of sour milk, poop, and kid feet - we started to dig a little deeper to figure out what might be causing the stench.  And that's when my adventures began.

The smell seemed to center around the dishwasher, trash, and toilet area, so, armed with my elbow high gloves, Clorox, a screw driver, and a wrench - and finding nothing in the trash or toilet area - I dove into the dishwasher.

Now our dishwasher is an old {old} cheap dishwasher, which is nailed into our kitchen counter - and apparently has not been moved out for about a decade.  As I un-nailed it, and pulled it out, I discovered why it was nailed in - it's not balanced.  Pull it out, un-nailed, and it tips over.  First mistake.  Also, entirely related, I discovered just how much water remains in the dishwasher, after it has finished washing and drying the dishes.

As I waded through the rising waters in the kitchen, to begin cleaning out the decades' worth of dust bunnies behind the dishwasher, I found remnants of another life - specifically a small mouse life - so far gone that he was nothing more than a skeleton on a glue trap that we had not placed [i.e. more than 7 years old].

I also found catnip (we've never had a cat), multiple mouse poison packs, and several large holes by the pipes with "WELCOME MICE" signs draped across their entrances, as small trumpets welcomed the hordes of mice entering the land of the free with smiles and cheers.  One of the dust bunnies was so mature that he actually greeted me in proper French.  [Some liberties might have been taken in this description.]  And don't worry, Port Authority shut down those holes with steel wool, pronto.

Also, despite the chaos behind the dishwasher, I promise I do clean my house.  Please don't revoke my membership in the Good Housewives club just yet...

But amazingly, no stench was found.

So into the dishwasher I dove.

Now, the food trap in the back has been stuck since we moved in - meaning, I clean it out fairly often, but have not been able to remove it to clean under it.  But the stench was vaguely emanating from that location, so my screw-driver, wrench and I dove in.

It was stuck, and it was stuck down good.  But it wasn't my first war against the house.

A few broken segments later, plus lots of elbow grease, and I won the battle.

As I lifted up the trap, I discovered what, on first glance, appeared to be strands of disgusting, disintegrating hair or stringy meat - the anchor that had held down the grate.  And also, by all olfactory signs, the source of the stench.

As I unwound it, strand by slimy strand, pulling solid portions out of the pipes, it soon became apparent that this was not what it had initially appeared, but rather...

a rotting,
liquefied,
decomposing

*mouse*

... the innards of which had woven their way around my dishwasher trap after his unfortunate demise, apparently several months ago.

EWW to the double EWWW.  EWW. EWWW.  EWW.  And in case you missed it, EWWW.

Thank the Lord for Clorox and elbow length gloves.

And while it's not my first time touching a decaying rodent [now you really will revoke my Decently Clean Human Beings membership] man, I hope it's my last.  Also, everything in my house has now been cloroxed, so you really have no worries.

It appears that the water that remains in the dishwasher had covered the decomposing mouse, diminishing the scent.  Until, of course, we were out of town for a few days and some of the water evaporated, releasing our smelly little friend's signature odor.

Also, EWW.

As I related this story to a few friends, my friend Jenn said, "You should blog about this!  I'm sure there's some deeper metaphor or lesson in it."

Well, friends, here's my pearl of wisdom for you:

"Don't let mice die in your dishwasher" and "Invest in Clorox" - because following this experience, I will be increasing the value of their stock exponentially.

KD out.