There is the most revolting smell in our little kitchen...I'm serious...it's disgusting.
So this morning everything came away from walls and I scrubbed and cleaned and emptied the 'fridge and sniffed the vegetables and re-wrapped the bit of Brie that's left and pulled the washing machine out and scrubbed behind there...and was completely knackered by eleven o'clock.
And the smell is still there...in fact I'd be willing to swear it's worse than it was this morning.
Now the other evening Himself spilled a jug of milk...most of which stayed inside the 'fridge...and it was all mopped up and no harm done. But I'm convinced some has found its way down that little hole at the back...the one that the ice is supposed to slither into. Himself says not. But then he would. And it was he who spilled the milk in the first place.
Short of turning the 'fridge upside down and shaking it I'm not quite sure how to deal with it. It's quite a silly little 'fridge anyway...the top has gone sort of lumpy and uneven so anything I stand there keels over and I swear the thermostat thing doesn't work properly...it either freezes everything totally solid or whatever you take out is slightly moist and vaguely warm.
It doesn't smell like dead mouse. Though Michael the 2nd has a hole behind the washing machine which is straight through the skirting board so one of his siblings might have died in there I suppose. But dead mouse smells like...well, like dead mouse. This smell is not like that...it's sweet and a bit sickly and catches the back of your throat.
I'm burning incense to mask the odour a little, so now we've wreathed in the smoke from something unpronounceable I bought in a packet from the Indian shop...