Disgust much?

Well today is one I would like to just file away under the category of “Never to be repeated or I will shut myself in a closet.” It just so happens that both of the fruit of my looms decided it was no-nap day, if you can believe it. I’ve dealt with one no-napper before, but not two . . . at the same time. One was always asking for food, the other was teething. One had a melt down when I went to the bathroom and refused to let him watch, and the other cried great big huge tears whenever I pulled him away from a dangerous situation. It was pure insanity. Try as I might, they just wouldn’t listen to reason or the throbbing of that vein in my neck.

Eventually my mind went somewhere else. Who knows where. But while it was gone I very nearly deposited one of Bubba’s dirty diapers in the refrigerator, and then started making dinner whilst missing two-thirds of the ingredients. Mommy brain strikes again.

I haven’t even mentioned yet how the whole Mel Gibson drama is weighing heavily upon me. I mean, hello. Forever Young. A movie that my dear impressionable childhood mind saw as the epitome of magical romance. Then years later, I find out that the man playing the frozen hunk of true love is actually the kind of man who turns into a blithering gorilla, who gets his briefs in a lunatic twist, and goes ballistic when his lover decides to sleep instead of have relations with him (It's true. I saw/heard it on TV). Crushing. I am crushed.

So for all these reasons and more, I’m going to write the remainder of this post and then call it a week. That’s right Thursday. You have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have been found unnecessary. Or maybe it’s Wednesday that needs to be banished. Either way, today is now Friday.

But now let’s get to the crux of this ramble, which is obviously something disgusting judging from the title.

Back when our air conditioner was working less than stellar, I considered that maybe our vents needed to be cleaned out. Some of the vents are on the floor so I pulled up the one closest to the kitchen and found this.
Don’t worry about me. I gagged on the spot. I’ve gotten it out of my system. I’ll wait for you to do the same.

Ready? Well, we’ve lived here for almost two years now, and I can assure you most of the things I found in this vent were not from us. There was stuff in there from before this place was remodeled and updated, probably even stuff that accrued during renovation. Previous tenants must have had severe issues considering they used this vent as their dinner table. I was so in awe of it all I had to investigate the photo further. Let’s take a closer look-see (feel free to enlarge, but I'm warning you. You are warned).
A. A piece of cheese. Honestly this could have been Bosco’s cheese. He nibbles it like a mouse.

B. Needles from an artificial Christmas tree. Definitely not us. We only do real.

C. Pieces of maroon shag carpeting which is actually not the carpet on our floors right now. Darn.

D. A penny, actually two, tails side up. Not good luck.

E. French fries. Not ours. I would slap anyone who wasted fries like this.

F. A dried, shriveled pea. This one is just a flat out mystery.

H. Pistachio shell. Can’t remember the last time I had one of those nuts outside of the pudding.

I. Crushed M&M. This one was sad to see. Chocolate left all alone. It looks like a jack-o-lantern though. So it’s creepy. To think this thing has been staring up at me every time I went by the vent. Heebie jeebies. That’s what you’re feeling right now.

J. Spider. Deceased. But not before it had the chance to poop on those Cheerios.

K. A bead. I don’t own crafting beads. Period. I’m surrounded by males who would use them as bullets.

L. Bat wings?

M. Child’s drawing on a post-it note. I almost felt bad disposing of it even though it wasn’t ours. But I had to. It was touching the bat wings?

N. Blood stains. I’m sure of it.

O. Leaves. Ok. This one could have been us.

And that’s literally only scratching the surface. The junk was a good inch thick, the majority of it being some sort of dried spackling or plaster chunks.

They’ve all been cleaned out though, yet somehow the horror still lives on in my mind. Maybe it’s because I keep looking at this picture . . . duh.

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