Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Now We Know.


When we got to our room Cora discovered something:


A pair of gas masks. They were set nicely next to the bed. Couldn't figure why we'd  need them. 

Now we know. 


Hailey gave signs that she needed to be changed. At about the same time I took my shoes and socks off. Cora gave me an offended look and began to say some not-too-nice things about my hygiene. Then she looked at Hailey who was nearby, Bent and did the test...then nearly gagged. 

I chuckled at her weakness and her inability to discern foot from poop...then I got a whiff. 

I think part of the inside of my nose peeled away. Unfortunately that did not help MY gag reflex.

 I've been in Asia for a week. I thought I'd smelled some pretty raunchy things. 

My insides flexed, just to let me know they were ready to leave the premises on their own should I not remove them from the area voluntarily. I'm master of my own body so I controlled them.  I took another breath and regretted it as my entire digestive system attempted to wrench itself free of its surroundings: namely, me. 

I retreated, leaving Cora to the brunt. I retrieved a scented bag intended to hold items of terrible power. I also got the wipes. From the other room I heard my wife scream, "it's in her vagina!" Chloe, nearby, could be heard to question what, precisely, that was, and the conversation continued as I looked for reasons not to return.  However, I'm a master of my body and a supportive husband, so I returned and stretched my items toward Cora, who was somehow surviving in the danger zone. I attempted to stay close, but not too close. 

Still, arms length was too close. 

The retching sounds issuing from her mother and the downright gagging from her dad seemed to delight Chloe, who cackled with unbridled glee from well within the danger zone. She was exhibiting no apparent ill affects.  The child threw her head back in great humor at the death spasms wracking her parents. 

Finally the offending diaper was removed, one of its clean brethren falling with it due to proximity, and said offending item was placed carefully in the containment bag, but the harmful gasses lingered. We placed it in a second containment bag and a third. 

Finally, having assured myself that I had not come into direct contact I washed my hands. Drawing my hands across my face I caught another whiff of the offensive substance. Re washing did nothing to remove the smell. I briefly entertained the idea of amputation but it was my right hand and I'm right handed. Becoming a lefty had a certain draw, but reason prevailed. I found some scented oil and covered my hands. The bag of doom has been moved. 

A little while later Chloe said to all present, "I guess it's time I learned about vaginas."

May god have mercy upon the poor souls that remove it tomorrow. Over and out from the containment area!




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