The Smell of Death

I should have acted when Ethan commented to me, "This part of the kitchen smells." He was by the toaster. Certain parts of our new kitchen have a strange smell, something like mold or dust, despite my best cleaning efforts. I dismissed it.

Tonight while Erik and I were doing the dishes, I said, "It really does smell over here." Then I discerned the source of the smell.

When we first moved in, we discovered that there were several small house geckos who already lived here. They were quite bold, too bold in fact. I decided we didn't want any squatters so I bought two gecko traps. I put one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Then I forgot about them.

Guess what - they work! I picked up the one in the kitchen tonight and saw two sets of blank, lifeless eyes peering out at me. As is my custom when I encounter small harmless critters in my house, I squealed and threw it at Erik. He said, "Ah, so this is why it smells like rotting flesh in here."

I vow to listen to Ethan the next time he says something smells.