Something has died in son number two 's bedroom...
Any of you reading this who have a son (or two) will understand that allowances have to be made for their bedrooms. Unlike daughters, who are fond of scatter cushions, cuddly toys and a fragranced candle, the pervading whiff of a teenage boy's bedroom usually involves sweaty socks, forgotten bed snacks and far too much aftershave. As the smell in son number two's bedroom seemed to start being more noticeable when he came home from university last Thursday, I had merely put it down to the three damp towels which I found in one of his many bin liners. But as the days have worn on, and the bags have been emptied, the smell has reached a level that no human should ever have to experience. It was round about lunchtime yesterday that the penny finally dropped.
You'll remember that I had reason to call on Andrew the Ratman's services a couple of weeks ago, when the scuttlings in the roof started to become so loud, that the husband suggested that we may have something substantially larger that a mouse up in there. He was considering going up there with a wooden chair and a whip, but apathy got the better of him, and Andrew was called out instead.
Now the traps Andrew put down had seen off a couple of the little blighters, and the poison had been taken by some of the more savvy ones. I am therefore assuming that some poor mouse, with eyes bigger than his tiny belly, having partaken of the poison, is currently residing in son number two's bedroom wall cavity giving off an almighty whiff.
Now the theory behind the poison, is that it makes the mouse very thirsty, so he heads off out of the roof and into the great outdoors searching for water. Well it would appear that this particular chap took a left instead of a right, ending up in a very tight cul de sac with no way out. Someone told me yesterday that this smell could last up to two months, which is something to look forward to.
As well as using up can after can of Febreze (I'll give them 'odour elimination'), I have been lighting candles throughout the house, in the vain hope that this will mask the smell, and as long as son number two keeps his bedroom door shut, we seem to be stopping it from running rampant through the rest of the house. I daren't put candles in his bedroom though, as I am concerned that the gases which the mouse is giving off could be a hazard if they come into contact with the naked flame. One change in wind direction would be all it takes...
Now son number two loves his bedroom. Let me rephrase that. He really loves his bedroom, and yesterday I realised how bad it was in there. He came downstairs just before his best friend-turned-girlfriend ELL was tipping up (how we've missed that girl). Standing in the doorway, he said to me,
'Mum I can't sleep in there anymore. Can I go into another bedroom?' Well of course, this is fine, as I have several empty rooms, but the killer comment was when he told me that he would have been fine if his cold had hung around a bit longer. As it was, as his nose cleared, the smell was revealed in all its putrid glory.
So his bedroom is now lying dormant, windows thrown open, and door firmly closed. It will be some time before anyone ventures back in there.