All summer my car has been a bit smelly.
Smelly to the point of embarrassing.
I've cleaned it.
I've taken it to the car wash.
Yet the smell lingered.
Charlotte likes to spray her bottles everywhere so I assumed it was sour milk hidden in the crooks and crannies of the car seat.
Today, I cleaned the car. It was the same ole same ole.
Spend an hour cleaning it while the girls sit up front pretending to drive taking breaks only to dig through my change drawer. I think they are the only two humans on the planet who squeal at the sight of a penny.
Just as I announced I was all done, I discovered -out of no where - rocks right where I had just vacuumed!!
I *wonder* how they got there.
(Seriously, this is why I never clean as often and as well as I should. It's pointless. As soon as one mess is addressed, a hundred others have sprouted.)
As I climbed all over the car, on my hands and knees,
I came across the culprit.
Under Grace's car seat.
Now you might be asking:
"Now Katie, that bottle looks pretty obvious to me! How could you have missed it? I mean, it is yellow and it clearly stands out against the cave-like interior of your car?"
While it looks obvious in this picture, I assure you it wasn't.
I was down on my stomach pointing my camera up to get an angle where you could see the bottle under the seat. In the routine entry and exits of the car, you'd never see it.
Only if you were on the ground looking up and call me crazy but that isn't part
of our routine.
But there she is.
Curdled, rotting milk in all her glory.
A good way to end summer, no?