Pure Dagnasty Evil
I have no idea what I just cleaned up, but I'm sure as hell glad it's gone now. If you have a weak stomach, skip to the next post.
I'm usually a pretty good mess detective, and I'm usually not squeamish about cleaning up stuff. I don't even puke a little in my mouth any more when the kids puke in my bed. But the contents of this trash can made me ill. It can't have been there more than a day or two because I had emptied out that trash can, but it stunk to high heaven. I don't know what exactly was in it, but a pretty good approximation would be if someone threw their used toilet paper in the trash can instead of the toilet, then threw a poopy diaper on top of it, urinated in it and then puked all over it for good measure. It was an ungodly shade of orange, and inhabited by fruit flies.
First I took it directly out to the outdoor trash can and tried to dump it, but it stuck to the bottom of the can because of that bottom layer of now-wet toilet paper. I had to reach in and grab it to loosen it. Then I took it upstairs to the bathtub and used the boys' used bathwater to wash it out. I had hoped that if I swirled the water around some, most of the mess would come off, but it didn't. I had to scrub it out of the corners. After that I had to make sure all the chunks went down the drain.
I have boys so I'm used to finding all sorts of random things I don't understand, like carrots in my shoes or the bills I'd wondered how I'd missed paying under their beds, but this just flabbergasted me. I don't know what this was or how it got there, but whatever it was, it was pure dagnasty evil.