If you can smell poo it's usually because there's poo. That is the new rule in this house.
There were times you could smell something disgusting and there were no need to roll up your sleeves and take a big breath. I'd be sat on the sofa watching some TV or just pottering around on the Internet, minding my own business, and my nose would twitch, eye brows would raise and I would glare around confused. It ALMOST always turned out to be a random drift from the drains or the dog farting and I would go back to my usual activity without a care in the world.
Now if I catch a scent I'm in full alert mode.
Immediately stand up. Roll up the sleeves. Take a big breath. And go! It doesn't phase me what I might encounter, I have had it all. I've been to hell and back. It couldn't get any worse.
I've had the weetabix concrete that is impossible to get off, the chicken korma, the strange rabbit droppings, the green mucus, the Tarmac, the redecorated wall, the bath of poo and the full on hazmat suit required atom bomb explosion. And this week I've had the dog joining in on the fun. Literally, shit everywhere! It was like a shit farm in the living room. The shit was reproducing.
There's never a false alarm. Just shit. If I can smell it, it's happening. Somewhere, sometime soon in a place very near to me. Shit is coming. And if mum isn't around there's no chance I can pretend it's not.
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