I had a hard time sleeping at Katie’s house last night because of a nauseating smell. At first I thought it was coming from the couch that was my bed — something dead underneath, or a pet’s digestive product. That thought, and a growing headache as the stench got ever stronger, prompted me to get up for an investigative prowl at around 3:30 a.m. The closer I got to the supine Katie, the more powerful the odor. This was not surprising. Yet, something wasn’t right.
I stood over her in the dark, looking like Anthony Perkins but without the knife, and was just about to wake her up when she demanded, “What are you doing!?”
Eventually we determined that the propane heater was leaking. The whole downstairs was dense with fumes. While I carried the heater outside, she started crutching to cleaner air. But, groggy from sleep and gas, she got confused by the step up into the living room. As I watched in horror, she toppled straight back and landed hard on her butt, looking for a few seconds like roadkill. [Ed. note: please see comment below for her explanation.]
She asked me to sniff out the room in which Andy was sleeping, to make sure he wasn’t in any toxic danger. I obeyed and declared, “No, it doesn’t smell of propane in here.” Today when I told Andy the saga, he said, “Oh, yeah. I heard your voice but I thought you said, “It doesn’t smell of cocaine in here.” Here’s Andy, Ned and Butters:
Anyhow, the whole downstairs stunk so badly that Katie and I retreated upstairs and climbed into her bed. We ate some Tootsie Roll Pops and worried and giggled and I tried not to kick her leg.
Around 5:00 we fell back to sleep. Less than two hours later Katie was up for the day with the baby, and a wondrous baby he is: cheerful, smart, and — I swear, that baby has a full-on, wise-beyond-his-year sense of humor. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
My Dear Sister Pruella,
This is the specter that greeted me when I tried to crutch my way out of the gas. It explains why I toppled. You are frightening to behold.
[Ed. note: As the owner of this blog, it was my right to remove my head from this picture. As the owner of this blog it is my right to tell you why I looked like this: I was trying to be like Uncle Charley on My Three Sons.]