For the past several weeks I have had an organic stench coming from my kitchen cabinet. At first I thought I just needed to let the cabinet “air out” so I left the cabinet doors open overnight – but it was still there. I found an open bag of shelled peanuts so I rolled up the bag thinking it might solve the problem. It was still there.
As the days went on the smell got worse and worse, and I couldn’t figure it out. Every time I opened my cabinet I was overcome with this wretched stench. Seriously, it smelled really bad.
Finally I decided to figure it out once and for all — so I started examining everything in my cabinet.
Cans of soup and vegtables? – no.
Crackers? – no.
Peanut Butter?, Rice Cakes?, Ramen Noodles? – no, no, no.
The sack of potatoes way up on the top shelf?
Bingo.
Disgusting does not even begin to describe this sack of rotting potatoes. Slime had been spread through the entire sack — not just any slime. This slime resembled snot – like the kind that explodes from your nose if you have a bad cold and sneeze. As I picked up the sack from the shelf, I heard the slime-snot squishing around in the bag. I nearly threw up right then and there. I put the potatoes in my kitchen garbage… then I emptied that bag into ANOTHER bag and tied it off really good and stuck it in my trash barrel, never to see it again.
That bag of potatoes is how God sees our sin. Repulsive.
When I still lived at home my mom used to keep the potatoes under the kitchen sink. Once we had a bag that got shoved to the back of the cabinet and escaped notice until they went bad…(and, based on the stench, there was no doubt that something had gone bad!)
I got the distinct, um, displeasure of cleaning up the mess. Potatoes are, by far, the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had to cleanup. And, that includes cat urine and spoiled meat, and poop on a sidewalk.
I feel your pain here, and that’s a great analogy!
You pooped on a sidewalk?
lol…no, but when I started at the museum they were still doing construction work, and they hadn’t finished the bathrooms, so everyone had to use Port-A-John’s. One day, we found poop on the back sidewalk…no one knows where it came from, and no one really asked, and I got stuck cleaning it up.
We had working bathrooms the next day.
(Although, if I do, at some point, poop on a sidewalk, I would have a great story to tell for the rest of my life…even better than the Boston couch story.)
Um…was this the blog-writing-train-of-thought that I interrupted?
Wow…I see where I rate!
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