You might be able to identify with this. I was gathering our breakfast together, savoring the aroma of brewing coffee, checking on the eggs as they chirped along in the pan, carving off a bit of cheese to accompany the veggies. Suddenly my block of cheese vanished. Just literally disappeared. Goodness, where could it have gone? Surely it would resurface from behind the canisters, or turn up in an odd spot in the fridge, or appear in the laundry basket. Stranger things have happened. But it didn’t. And now two days have gone by. I’ve searched and sought diligently for the missing cheese, to no avail. I’m dreading the day when it reveals its hiding place by its odor.
Have you ever found some hidden thing by smelling its odor? Sometimes an odor can lead us to a child or a dog who hears the word “bath” and doesn’t want one. Or a stray banana peel behind the garbage pail. Or even a dead potato. Years ago, our neighbor asked to borrow our backyard picnic table. When he crossed the yard to fetch it, he stepped on a rotten potato that I’d pitched into the woods. I would not have imagined that one potato could permeate the backyard with its stench, but it did. Everyone at the picnic was impressed.
Thankfully, not everything I misplace develops an odor. What if my keys stank every time I lost track of them? What if one of my numerous lists, created to remind me of what I am bound to forget, began to reek when I couldn’t remember where I last put it? What if my favorite sweater developed a rank and randy smell when it drifted down to hide in obscurity under another garment on the closet floor? On the other hand, at least I would be able to find these items in a hurry. Maybe we should invent some sort of electronically activated “Scratch ‘n’ Sniff” to embed into our most commonly misplaced items. Some icon would pop up on our phone screens, connected to a smelly chip in the elusive object. But I digress. And I am technologically way over my head.
Back to horrific odors. Other than odors in the “outdoor toilet” category, my nomination for worst stench would be my favorite plant fertilizer, fish emulsion. Rotting vegetation, as in that backyard potato, would be a close second. I suppose that the decaying frog that got caught in our louvered window in the Florida heat would come in third.
But hidden smells, no matter how daunting, must be uncovered and resolved. Think about those growing children who resist toilet training. How they can test our olfactory limits! I remember being given the task of dealing with a particularly offensive diaper on an unconcerned toddler. “When are you going to start using the toilet like the rest of us?” I queried, as I gagged, struggling to breathe only through my mouth. “Next Thursday,” was the quick reply. But I took care of it. I guess it’s really true. Love covers, or uncovers, a multitude of smells.
“HUMAN RESOURCES”
A contradiction in terms? Another oxymoron, to go along with these choice examples:
CIVIL WAR, CRASH LANDING, CLEARLY MISUNDERSTOOD
On and on they go. We are fighting with the Human Resources Department of my husband’s former employer. Words that seem appropriate, that I am trying to avoid, include “feckless, irresponsible, dismissive”. I could add a few more but I’m not into profanity. It is, seriously, against my religion. Does the Human Resources Department exist for humans, or for some other unknown species? Because if it does, it should relabel itself more accurately.
It’s a simple issue of back taxes from the 2015. It’s not rocket science. I have collected all the necessary documentation. All we need is an official letter verifying the facts. But no. They don’t do that. I’m puzzled by this cavalier attitude. If not this “team”, then who?