by F. Etz

Based on actual events. Names have been changed to protect the identity of the victims.

Part 4 of 4 (Read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3)

Finally I turn my thoughts toward what to make for dinner. Food is the last thing on my mind. I'm hot and sweaty. Not hungry. Time is not on my side either. It's now 4:00 p.m. We have to eat and run, so that we have time to primp for the family portrait.

Having two girls in the house, who love the flat iron, usually means there will be some drama about how their hair looks.


I haven't even looked at myself since this morning. I wonder what I look like. How will the picture turn out? I don't care anymore. I just want the day to be over. I just want my house to smell clean. I just want coffee. Brewed, of course, from my brand new Mr. Coffee 12-Cup Programmable Coffee Maker.

Back to dinner prep. I don't have many options. Scanning the freezer, I see that I've already prepared a pound of ground hamburger. Sloppy Joes it is. I know the girls don't really like them. I know Ike doesn't really like them. He understands when he calls to check in on my progress, and I tell him of the day's events and my plan for dinner. Sloppy Joes will have to do. I take a shower. I try to fix my hair. It's no use. I've been skunked. I feel defeated.

Dinner is horrible. All we can taste is skunk. It's in our noses. It's in our mouths. I have to force myself to eat. We finish up. The girls head upstairs to primp. One hasn't even figured out what she is wearing yet. "I don't even care!

Just put something on!" I say as lovingly as all mothers do in such a situation.

We head to the church for the picture. We're happy to be in the van, in the fresh air. They're backed up when we arrive at the church. Our appointment was supposed to be at 7:00 p.m. We wait nervously, wondering if anybody can smell us.

Finally, a woman calls us back. She starts to arrange us and can instantly sense that we are not happy campers. I tell her of the day's events and how we all smell like skunk. She walks over to me and smells my shoulder. "I can't smell it," she says. This makes me laugh. She actually walked over to me and smelled my shoulder. Then the girls laugh. Ike laughs a little bit. We end up with a really nice picture, order a few prints then get back in the van to head home. It's now close to 8:00 p.m. Fifteen hours have passed since our skunk ordeal began.

We arrive home and open the door to the kitchen. Skunk. I can only hope that the smell will dissipate within the next week. My loving sister-in-law, Rory, has assured me that it takes time and to keep spraying the affected areas with vinegar. I won't give up without a fight. I hope she is right.

In the meantime, I will put out fresh bowls of baking soda and pans of charcoal around the house to absorb the horrid odor. One day soon, my house will be back to normal. I'll have my cup of coffee, brewed from my brand new Mr. Coffee 12-Cup Programmable Coffee Maker. And it will taste good.

To be continued…….