Yesterday the house had a serious funk. It smelled like a moose crawled into a corner and died. I searched every room for the cause but came up mooseless. I then engaged in kitchen anti-odor protocol, emptying the trash, running the garbage disposal, and checking the fridge for intelligent life. Still the green cloud of decay hung thickly in the air. I realized there was one place I hadn’t looked.
In the winter the uninsulated sunroom makes for a nice back up fridge. When I placed the partially open can of pinapple juice there, I thought I could count on Michigan weather to keep it cool until July. A seventy degree day in April was unthinkable. But it appears Al Gore was right which proved inconvenient for me.
Every summer a couple birds nest on a ledge by the sunroom window, making for excellent cat TV. The Feline Five begged to go there for front row seats. In their enthusiasm to get to the window, one of them knocked over the can of juice. Then the hot sun went to work. The result was a puddle of putrid pineapple. The pulp was nicely curdled.
We were naturally out of carpet cleaner, so I grabbed what I could find. It took two rags, half a bottle of Windex and a Shamwow to clean up the mess. I opened every window to ventilate the room. It helped a little but even now there is faint trace of zombie pineapple. Next time I hope it’s just a moose.