More Mouse Tales

I have had lots of fun and exciting things occur this weekend.  Many of them sweet, fun stories....stories I will get to sometime this week. 

This is about a slightly different type of story. 

I already wrote about our mouse issues last week, and the hillbilly manner in which my husband chose to "solve" them.  Well, consider this Part II.

Late in the week, we started to feel like the house had a bit of a smell.  At first, we thought it was the trash, so we changed the bag and took it to the garage.  It seemed to take care of it. 

Last night, I got home from a long day of traveling (I left at 8:30 in the morning, got home at 9:30 that night).  The first thing I noticed upon entering from the garage was a strong smell of rot. 

Something was awry.  And we thought it's name was dead mouse.

After church, we pulled out the stove to get to cabinet that we thought was the source of the problem.  As we pulled out the stove, the smell became UNBEARABLE.

Andy's parents arrived and joined in the great Gag and Sniff fest of 2009.  Andy's mom pinpointed the location of the smell--the top back panel of the stove.

After they left, and took our buddy Keegan home, it became time to deal with the smell.  Because having a house that smells like rot isn't enjoyable.   My superhero husband opened up the stove, and found our good friend, El Fried-o, melted to the ignition of our stove.  It looks like he was scurrying through the stove when I turned it on one day, and got electrocuted and fried.

I'll save you the gory details, except to tell you that it was gory.  And smelly.  And bad.  I may or may not have stood at the other end of the kitchen gagging as Super Andy fixed the problem.

There is truly no moral to this story.  Just something I'll want to remember later and share with our kids sometime.  The mouse?  He's pretty gone.  But the house?  It smells less and less like rot with each passing hour.