I am prone to migraines. Yesterday morning, I woke up with one. I could feel the throbbing. I could feel that my eyes were a little bit fuzzy. Light hurt. My alarm clock blaring REALLY hurt. M2's high-pitched squeal made me pretty sure my head was going to explode on the spot. But the worst part was that when I sat up in bed, I smelled...
I was fully aware that I sounded crazy when I told Oz that I smelled this particular odor, especially since I said it as I was sticking my head under the bed to check for evidence of such. No sign of any. The dogs spend the night outside, so the chances of actual poo were slim, and yet... as I walked around the room getting dressed... I smelled it again.
"I don't smell it, honey," my husband assured me. This statement comes from the man who can't hear a single engine noise, no matter how much I freak out about it, and who can't see the item he's hunting in the fridge. I don't trust his senses.
I gave up and chalked the smell up as a new prodromal migraine symptom. After all, who doesn't love the idea of smelling dog doody every time they get a migraine?!? I took my Treximet and went on about my day, and I didn't smell it again... until this morning. I smelled it as I was going out to the van to take the kids to school. I smelled it when I was feeding the chickens. And I smelled it when I came back into the house. Part of me considered taking some Aleve as a migraine preventative, but then I came into the living room to start school for the day and forgot.
11 o'clock rolled around, and M1 and I got ready to head to swim class. I put on my shoes and walked out to the van... AND SMELLED IT AGAIN.
This time, something in my brain clicked.
Usually my shoes live in my bedroom closet. They had been on my feet this morning when I had smelled the poo again. As I stepped into the van, I checked. Sure enough, poo on my shoe. I hopped back out of the van and scraped off as much as I could on the grass and railroad tie that surrounds the garden area. Unfortunately, that had the lovely effect of sloughing off the grass and other 'protective' barrier between me and the actual poo. I drove to swim class with the rank odor in my nose and realized that A) I couldn't go into the swim school reeking of dog feces, and B) I couldn't go in barefoot.
Thank heaven for Kleenex and wet wipes.
And thank heaven that I don't have to smell dog poo every time I have a migraine. I'll take what small blessings I can get.