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Wanted: Fifty Gallons of Tomato Juice
February 28, 2007First of all, I should report that we're on the mend. The Schaads have been fighting some (rather bizarre) illnesses but most of them have passed. I'm still suffering from a bout of bruxism, but it's not as bad as it sounds and my medical team assures me that they won't have to amputate. Probably.
In any event, the title of this post refers to the awful stink that has descended, not unlike some mythological cloud of doom (or Horse Face), on Tammy's Honda CRV. I call it the Honda Stink-RV now because it smells so bad. Apparently, Alert Night Driver Tammy must have hit a skunk, or driven over a recently deceased skunk, or driven right through a huge convention of thousands of raving-mad inebriated skunks, because one night I went out to the garage to go somewhere and the next thing I know I was being awoken the next morning by rough shaking. The kids tell me that I must have passed out from the stink.
At this point I may not have fully communicated how bad I think the car smells. I guess words fail me. I did fulfill my husband-like duties and checked all of the wheel wells for a hiding skunk, either dead or alive. I also checked under the hood by rapping my fist loudly on the hood and saying, in an authoritative voice, "Helloooooooooooo Skunk!" (There was no answer and really by then I was feeling faint again so I had to go back inside.)
I've been told that the mortal enemy of the skunk is the ripe tomato, in the same way that vampires hate garlic. The best I could do today was a can of tomato soup, which I threw on the driver's side door because that's usually where I have to go in. It was then that I noticed it wasn't tomato soup, it was actually Sirloin Burger with Country Vegetables. So needless to say I didn't notice any immediate smell improvement, but now I have chunks of potatoes and green beans on the car.
At least the skunk will eat well tonight.