My dinner table this morning--note card ideas, works in progress, and the oh-so important diet coke.
Sometime Friday night one of our resident geniuses must have purposely swerved in order to kill an armadillo. I don't know why they did it because they left the dead armadillo in our driveway. They also destroyed our mailbox and the neighbor's mailbox and left their side-view mirror in our front yard.
Which leaves us with the distasteful job of disposing of said armadillo.
Neither my husband or I have any experience in this area, so my husband scooped it up into several heavy-duty trash bags and put it in our outside garbage can. This morning, however, we realized that it had begun to smell and trash isn't picked up until Friday.
I suggested taking it over to one of the local restaurants and throwing it away in their trash, but my husband was worried that a man clandestinely throwing something in a dumpster would draw suspicion.
My husband considered burying it in the backyard, but that seems like a lot of work for an animal that wasn't a family pet.
So we called upon my husband's super-country cousins. My family wouldn't have been worthless on this one--they don't change their own oil or wash their own toilets--I assume their roadkill experience is limited. My husband, on the other hand, has relatives who would have turned the armadillo into dinner.
The cousins were the right choice and they shared their full-proof method for getting rid of the stink:
- Rub Vick's Vapor Rub under your nose.
- Put a lemon wedge in your mouth.
- Open up the garbage bag of death and squeeze MANY limes over the deceased.
That about sums it up. Hubs asked if I wanted to help, but I declined because, well, that's disgusting.