I Have Slain the Beast

For a few days, Brian and I have been jokingly referring to the stench in the master bedroom as "The Beast." It stank. Seriously. As in, the door stayed closed for the whole week after we moved in. I opened it once, just out of curiosity. Bad idea. We had to shove a towel under the door just so Brian could breathe at night.

My goal this past Saturday was to clean our bathroom. Sounds easier than reality. I spent probably three hours and only managed to get the toilet, sink and floor clean. I lost heart before getting to the inside of the sink vanity and the shower. Even more disheartening was the fact that the smell didn't go away. Brian said it at least got less, but I couldn't really tell. And I was pretty sure the rank odor was coming from an unidentified object on the floor of the vanity. So tonight after I put Jonathan to bed, I geared up with rubber gloves (I almost wore two pairs), pulled out the Clorox clean-up and conquered the Beast. I have my theories about what the foul substance was, but you'll thank me for not sharing.

Now I'm recuperating with a small glass of wine to settle my stomach. If you haven't noticed, I don't have many "before" pictures of the house posted. I think some part of me wants to forget as quickly as possible and have no reminders. Some things are too gross to capture for posterity.