Seriously. As I walked quickly through the grocery store at 10:45pm last night, I realized I wished I smelled like stinky feet. Or a durian fruit. Or the compost bin. Any smelly and easily washed out bad smell I could think of would have been preferable.
But I didn't smell like any of those. I was slightly disheveled, wearing mismatched pajamas and running shoes. My hair was everywhere.
And I smelled slightly of skunk.
I wondered if my fellow shoppers thought I'd been smoking weed.
No, no dear friends. I haven't been smoking. Our dog got sprayed by a skunk. Again. The second time in a month.
Fortunately, in a lot of ways, it was not as bad as last time. I don't think we're going to have to shampoo the carpets. I washed the shower curtain and threw away the plastic shower curtain liner. I'm hoping I can get away with airing out the comforter. I'm washing everything else.
Unfortunately, in other ways it was worse. The poor little dog got most of it in the face. It wasn't a direct hit but it was close enough. That's where the smell is focused. He has stinky ears and stinky whiskers. He had a bath right away but all of the skunk smell remover methods say to keep away from the face.
All except for the over the counter douche. I didn't have one on hand.
That's why last night, as I rushed through the store wondering what my fellow shoppers thought of me, I bought several gallons of tomato juice for his second bath (his first was hydrogen peroxide/baking soda/dawn dish soap), oranges and cinnamon (for boiling on the stove to make the house smell better), and a package of douches for the little guy's face.
I'm pretty sure the cashier thought I was crazy. Or maybe she didn't notice at all. I don't know, it was late after all.
I definitely felt crazy. I envisioned a crazed housewife running through the store in her robe and slippers. That's how I felt. But I shouldnt' have worried. I felt way more crazy when I got home.
There we were at 11pm, my husband and I, trying to figure out the best way to douche our dog's face.
Just a typical Wednesday night at our house. We're totally normal. I swear it.