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We have a dead animal under our house somewhere. And it smells like, well...death.
I got back to our house on Sunday after being away all weekend and was greeted by a most offensive, eye-watering smell.
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My first thought was, "Why me?? I just want to relax on a Sunday night and go to the grocery store and do laundry. Not be held hostage to my house because my husband is in the crawl space and is afraid he might get stuck if left alone."
Then I realized I was being dramatic. I decided to be all positive and crap and just be really grateful for all of the Sundays that I come home and DON'T have a dead animal under my house.
That helped for a little bit. Then we just left and spent the night at my parents' house.
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I'm meeting a pest control person around noon at my house. I'm praying that he finds the source of the smell. I've been told that otherwise, you just have to wait for the animal to decompose, than look forward to a bunch of flies invading your vents about a month later.
Yay.
Stay tuned for the results of the noon meeting. And in the meantime, just enjoy those days that you come home to the non-smell of a rotting corpse.
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