I think the highlight of the week was the home we toured that had four to thirty guys living in it - hard to tell based on the volume of plastic cups strewn about like in the movie Signs. As we stepped over dirty boxers and other unrecognizable undergarments, we feasted on the rich aroma of pepperoni mixed with sweaty unwashed sheets and, hmmmm, what was that acidic undertone....ahh yes, urine. The moment that sent me overboard was when I accidentally fell into one of the wet towels hanging in the bathroom. With nervous shivers taking over my body, I kindly thanked the landlord for showing us the luxury accomodations and bolted to the car to douse my arm in Purell. I fear that if Whit had been with us, his tiny rapidly dividing cells would have been affected by the toxic environment, leading to the growth of a third arm, possibly coming out of his head like Rachel Dratch.
(Photo courtesy of SNLparty.com)
I felt a bit like those online daters who talk for weeks with a potential mate who sounds delightful and sends a picture of themselves looking svelte in a bathing suit, only to meet in person and learn that the mystery person is, well, a freak with a baby arm growing out of their head.
For those of you wondering, we did indeed finally find a home yesterday, and we are looking forward to our next adventure...in a happy clean abode.
