One of the most ungodly smells on earth has, for a few weeks now, been living in our bin.
It stems from a broken egg which has leaked at the base of the bin and, along with the yolk and albumen, adhered the bag in which the offending egg, along with other things have festered.
Basically, every time we opened up the bin it has been a battle to not vomit all over our rubbish.
It’s still quite bad, but it’s better than it because I spent a good half hour or so outside, gipping every few seconds, as I attempted to remove the offending articles from the bin. Using a grass rake (to unstick and remove the bag) and copious amounts of boiling water to remove the egg.
Here is what I learnt.
Egg, seemingly no matter how old, will scramble when encountering hot water.
Hot water, while cleansing, really does work to intensify the smell. I assume that as the egg molecules gained more energy more gases were released. Whatever the reason, I had to go inside and take refuge in the kitchen while steam issued forth from the bin.
On the list of ideas I have had, it’s not a great one. I mean, it is in that the bin needed cleaning. But it’s also not in that I have a fully functioning olfactory system and it did not need to be assaulted in that way.
What’s worse is that I left the bin for quite a while before I poured out the water. It was dark when I went to empty it. I have no idea how clean the bin actually is. The smell had lessened, but that might be solely due to the copious amounts of Flash I poured in to try and shift everything.
There’s another reason for cleaning the bin, though. Aside from the waves of nausea each time we throw anything away. Carole has convinced herself that something has died in our shed. And it’s quite hard to tell if something has died in the shed when the shed already smells because the bin that lives in the corner of it smells like something has died in it.
I need to remove one known source of smell from the equation before I investigate the other – with flashbacks of the time a hedgehog had died at the back of my dad’s garage popping up quite strongly in my mind it’s not something I’m massively looking forward to.
But if I don’t take a look then Carole will never enter the shed again. Because you know it will be her that finds the rotting corpse if I don’t go and investigate it…
And no-one’s ready for that much trauma and screaming. It’s bad enough if Peppa brings a mouse home. Surprise remains under a bucket in the shed is not something I want to go through…