Stop Calling Me!

These were the last words my spouse spoke to me- as I was hustling my children out of the house so I could debate whether or not I needed the Fire Department. You see, when I came home this evening from work- my house smelled like an ashtray. The smell was so strong and permeated throughout the house- that I skipped Google Translate and asked my housekeeper to get her translator on the phone- STAT. I was for sure that she had someone come with her to clean today and that that person either hid a used cigarette or purposely placed their ashes in between the gap from the counter to the cabinet. Yep, I was going to tell the woman I’ve known for over 15 years to not come back for I was certain someone with her strategically placed ashes (all because last week I somehow “lost” two $20 TJ Maxx checks and accused her new partner of stealing them).

After the translator reassured me that she came to clean alone and does not smoke- I got online to search what other things could mistakenly smell like cigarette ashes.

The first thing I saw was- psychic ability to smell ghosts or predict seizures or migraines. The second was that people who are getting sick (cancer) can smell ashes and only they have that ability to smell the smell.

With nobody home, my first call to hubby was sheer panic- for I do have migraines and what if I was getting a tumor or going to have a seizure??

The 8th call to hubby was after the children came home and (thankfully) also smelled the smoke- informing him that we’ve neither ghosts nor was I dying.

The 9th-14th call was that the plumber that I called (since the smell was emanating from underneath the sink) said we should call an electrician since the water heater was smoking and causing the breakers to trip.


Me: Oh, I’m sorry- I wasn’t sure if the house was going to explode from a possible “black mold” (something else I found could smell like an ashtray), or a wire shorting or if I was dying from an impending tumor! I didn’t mean to bother you while my nose keeps inhaling this deadly scent.

Hubby: You’re giving me a headache from all this- I’ll be home tomorrow evening. Leave the breakers off and forget about it.

Me: Oh, you have a headache??? I have to drive 15 minutes to get our three anxious children now, I can’t get the smell of ashes out of my nose, and I thought I was dying!

Needless to say, the “annoying” $1 calls to hubby pale in comparison to cost of the emergency plumber visit and electrician visit.

About Lady in Red

mom of 3
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