(Enter: 2012 Alyssa)
I have had a serious debate with myself about putting this on the blog, but I think I can handle the embarrassment. You are allowed to laugh; you are not allowed to judge (hehe).
Once upon a time, I went to a Women's Chorus activity up the canyon (the Passover one).
Once upon a later time (two and half weeks or so), my car started to stink in a vague sort of way. I couldn't figure out why, and it really wasn't too smelly, especially if I drove with the windows down (which is such a treat once spring starts), so I opted to just figure it out whenever I cleaned out my car in the nearish future.
I continued to drive despite the vague smell for another...week or so? Two weeks? And it didn't seem to get that much stronger until right at the end of that time, which lined up nicely with the spring weather suddenly taking a warm turn. Since it didn't get worse, I felt no incentive to figure it out. Big ol' shrug.
Then, on a Saturday, my dad stole off with my car in the afternoon to gas it up. (2020 Alyssa here: he did this ALL THE TIME when I was in college, and it warmed my poor little college student heart.) He had Mom with him, and they were apparently quite bothered by the smell I'd been slowly learning to ignore. I assume it was much worse for them since they probably didn't know instinctively (as did I) to roll down the windows...
Soon, I received a text: "Why do you have a trash bag of rotting food in your trunk?"
My first reaction was pure confusion. Why DID I have a trash bag of rotting food in my trunk? Who dared to put that there??
But almost concurrently with that thought came this feeling:
And I remembered in a big ol' jiffy exactly where that bag of rotting food had come from.
I had put it there.
After the Women's Chorus dinner.
A MONTH AGO.
And I hadn't thought about it since.
If you need to know why the heck I did that: Because there is no trash service up the canyon, every carpool driver took a bag of trash with them back down the mountain. Twas my civic duty! Which I promptly forgot about once I was home.
FOR A MONTH.
Anyway, my car smelled waayyyy better once Mom and Dad threw out the bag of rotting food in the gas station dumpster. Weird. (Big ol shrug.)
(2020 Alyssa now)
So that's how I learned that it is mortifying to have your parents clean out your stinky car trash for you when you are a grown adult who should know better. Bless their dang hearts for sleuthing around. I have no idea how long I would have let that smell float around...and I intend to never again come close to finding out. THE END.
Soon, I received a text: "Why do you have a trash bag of rotting food in your trunk?"
My first reaction was pure confusion. Why DID I have a trash bag of rotting food in my trunk? Who dared to put that there??
But almost concurrently with that thought came this feeling:
And I remembered in a big ol' jiffy exactly where that bag of rotting food had come from.
I had put it there.
After the Women's Chorus dinner.
A MONTH AGO.
And I hadn't thought about it since.
If you need to know why the heck I did that: Because there is no trash service up the canyon, every carpool driver took a bag of trash with them back down the mountain. Twas my civic duty! Which I promptly forgot about once I was home.
FOR A MONTH.
Anyway, my car smelled waayyyy better once Mom and Dad threw out the bag of rotting food in the gas station dumpster. Weird. (Big ol shrug.)
(2020 Alyssa now)
So that's how I learned that it is mortifying to have your parents clean out your stinky car trash for you when you are a grown adult who should know better. Bless their dang hearts for sleuthing around. I have no idea how long I would have let that smell float around...and I intend to never again come close to finding out. THE END.
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