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After being gone several days, I was eager to see my family.  Bailey was waiting at the side door excited to show me his latest medal he won and the dogs were in a frenzy.  I, however, was distracted by a permeating scent.  What is that God awful smell?   I was fixated on the location of the aroma, and pretended to be present as I hugged my husband and listened to Bryce babble on about the latest news from his rehearsal for his first high school play.

Finally, I said it out loud, “What is that awful smell,” and I received three blank stares.  There was a stain on the rug that was not there when I left.  Could that be the source?   No, as I was informed that Brian had just spilled tea and that he had already scrubbed it will a stain remover, so it was simply drying.   I armed myself with Febreeze and searched the house.  I sprayed every nook and cranny to eliminate the source of the stench.  Still, my nose could pick up the smell.

As I scurried around the house like a crazy person, I noticed my family appearing amused.  Finishing my lap spritzing the air with a fragrant aroma, I opened the pantry door and hoped that maybe the garbage was the source.  I implored Bailey to take out the trash while I soaked the area with my fragrant weapon.   I was at a loss.  What is that smell?  Where is it coming from?   Do people come into my home and inhale this deplorable scent?   Are they talking behind my back believing that I don’t keep a clean and odor free home?

The weariness from traveling overpowered me and I reluctantly surrendered.   My family breathed a sigh of relief and I heard Bailey whisper, “Well, Mom’s back,”.  I chalked up the stench as a intense build-up of testosterone and prayed that I simply haven’t become nose blind.