DIS. Gusting

So, about a week ago, I started noticing a funky smell in my van. NORMALLY when that happens it means one of two things: either a sippy cup or bottle of milk has been left under a seat, to go sour in the high temperatures, or a wet towel or article of clothing has been left inside, either of which can fester and rot and stink to high heaven in the warm, moist summer air.

{Parents all over know just what I’m talking about, right? Right??? Come on, any parent out there who tells me they have NEVER found a disgusting sippy cup of congealed milk under the sofa or behind the TV is a flat-out liar and I’ll call you that to your face.}

Since my kids no longer drink out of bottles, I searched inside the van for some offending Sonic cup with left-over milkshake in it, or anything that might be the cause of the stench. Came up empty-handed. Although I found pencils and notebooks and empty candy wrappers and toys and trash and straw wrappers and flip flops and juice boxes and dvd’s and all kinds of OTHER crap in the van, I couldn’t find anything that might be the cause of the putrid, rancid smell. I looked under seats, and even in the glove box, thinking surely, somewhere, I would find a wet bathing suit, or even wet socks.

Good heavens, what stunk so bad???

Blaine finally convinced me it was just that the inside of the van had probably gotten wet from our various days at the pool, and since I park in the garage with the windows rolled up, the van simply needed a good airing out. Hmmm, I wasn’t so sure, but since I couldn’t find anything else, I figured he must be right.

Fast forward a few days. Kellen’s teacher from last year is married to a man I went to high school with. They have a daughter in Kendrie’s class who Kendrie really gets along well with. Since we already know one another’s families (man, I love living in a small town) we progressed pretty quickly to sleep-overs at one another’s houses, and this little girl was spending the night with us.

She and Kendrie were out in the garage, riding the rip-sticks and such in the driveway. I was sitting in the office on the computer (imagine that) when I heard shrieking, and hysterical laughter, and then Kendrie came running into the office, yelling about how they had found the source of the smell in my van.

Come to find out, it was the pool bag I keep in the back of the van. The one with goggles and dive sticks and what not in it. I also carry snacks in it, and the box of Goldfish crackers had turned upside down and spilled all in the bag. And then the crackers had gotten wet from the wet things we put in the bag. And then had turned into a slimy, rotten mess inside the bag, and seriously looked like something or someone threw up in my bag.

And then, this was the kicker.

I must have trapped a fly in the van. Who must have laid eggs. Because there were MAGGOTS in the pile of Goldfish in the bag. Let me repeat that, in case the horror of the comment didn’t fully sink in to you:

MAGGOTS.

IN THE POOL BAG IN THE BACK OF MY VAN.

AND A GUEST IN OUR HOME FOUND THEM.

Mortified, I called the little girl’s mother to try and explain what had happened, so that when her daughter retuned home the next day and told her mother that the Escoe’s had MAGGOTS at their house, she would understand and not assume we are the filthiest people on the planet.

Because seriously. MAGGOTS.

Needless to say, the entire pool bag, contents included, went directly into the trash.

Thankfully, the other mom laughed.

Although you know deep down, she was just glad it wasn’t her.

On the bright side, she let the little girl stay at our house. And it doesn’t appear she called Family Services OR an exterminator since no one has shown up at our front door.

And hey, my van does smell a lot better now.

So, do you think now would be a good time for me to announce that I’m starting up a housecleaning business? Because you just KNOW everyone would rush to have me as their housekeeper.