Cirque du Today: My Breath Doesn’t Stink. Really!

Cirque du Today8 Comments

Today, we started the New Year off with a bang. Well, almost a bang anyway. I was sitting on the couch with my three boys, snuggling and watching TV, when suddenly, my oldest, Mineological, starts complaining about something smelling bad.

“Did someone have Poo-poo Gas [our word for farting, passing wind, cutting the cheese]?” I looked around accusingly.

“No, it’s not that, Mommy,” M. interjected, with a sour look on his face. “I think, I think it’s your breath!”

I took the comment in stride, putting it down as another Mommy-Self-Image-Detonator, right along with my “spiky legs, cracked face, and big bum-bum.” But right after the sting wore off a few minutes later, my nostrils began to sting too. Just then, my husband started yelling from the basement:

“Ashleeyyyy! I need you to smell something downnn heeeere!”

Normally, that last sentence would be a classic line to follow up with a “that’s what she said,” but ignoring my perverted tendencies, I ran downstairs and was greeted with a blast of Mother Nature’s Poo-poo Gas, otherwise known as natural gas. Panicked, we called the fire department, who promptly told us to get the hell outta dodge. I rounded up the kids, grabbed some bags of pretzels and Cheez-Its (lest my kids starve while we wait for our house to blow up), and ran outside to have a wintery picnic on the sidewalk.

Within minutes, we heard the sirens. No less than four fire trucks pulled down on our street, one of them stretching a hose from a fire hydrant on the far side of our block even though there is a hydrant directly across the street from our house. At that point, I started to lose my shit, thinking I really should have grabbed my purse, or a bunch of albums, or my jewelry box, or my kid’s stuffed animals, or my new US Magazine, or all that Costco meat we’d so thoughtlessly chucked in the freezer! The firemen emerged from the trucks and went inside in full helmets and gear, throwing more fuel on my anxiety and prompting our sons to continuously ask us if our house were going to blow up, pretty much making me think that any minute, I was going to. Neighbors started to gather round, most of them approaching us so that we had to re-tell the whole story, some of them offering their random theories and urban legends of people’s houses blowing up in just this same scenario. All very comforting and helpful.

Twenty minutes later, the firemen came back out of our house, and one of them was carrying the new propane tank we just hooked up to the gas grill we keep on the patio. It happens to back to a window that leads, guess where? The basement. Good news is, our house did NOT blow up. Bad news is, it was kind of embarrassing that every fire engine in the county was called to our house for our grill’s leaky propane tank. Equally good news is, I’d forgotten to defrost any of that frozen Costco meat, because I would have totally tried to grill it for dinner, just like I do every single night of the year – winter, spring, summer, or fall. Talk about a Happy New Year – our house didn’t blow up, I didn’t blow up, nobody had Poo-poo Gas, and best of all, my breath doesn’t stink. Truly blessed!

Cirque du Today: My Breath Doesn’t Stink. Really!

8 Comments on “Cirque du Today: My Breath Doesn’t Stink. Really!”

  1. Rachell S.

    My biggest fear in life is smelling natural gas. I will not live in a place that has a gas stove. Why? Because I am probably more afraid of being embarrassed of a false alarm in front of all those gorgeous firemen (sorry, fire ladies) than I am of blowing up.

    However, I am immensely relieved nothing blew up for you, propane or otherwise. Yay for grabbing Cheetos! And loved how you wrapped the story up so neatly at the end, with all the loose ends covered. It helped calm my anxiety. 🙂

    1. Ashley

      You are my funniest paranoid friend, and believe me, I am leading the pack in paranoia! The firemen were not so hot, I am sorry to destroy the dream. But it sure was exciting on a totally different level. Happy New Year, Rachell!

  2. Brooke

    So glad I wasn’t one of “those neighbors” and that I was just texting “those neighbors” to make sure you were okay! 🙂 And if it makes you and the Mister feel any better, I had the hubby come home from a special NASA panel several years ago, when they were deciding if another shuttle should go up after the last tragedy, because our heat wasn’t working and he doesn’t like repairmen in the house when he’s not home. Come to find out, my rocket scientist, honorary NASA consultant just hadn’t changed our air filters in forever. ;p And I’m glad to know that your house didn’t blow up and that it wasn’t your breath!

  3. Uncle Wiggly

    But dahlink, what about the fookin’ Doritos? You fled without them, proving you
    are a valiant and selfless Ringleader whose name will be reverently whispered wherever clown cars careen, fat ladies roll in flour and fire-eaters whine about their dental. Rully good shew!!!!

    1. Ashley

      Uncle Wiggly, I ate all the Doritos prior to this event, unfortunately! But this was why I sort of believed M. when he mentioned my breath! As always, love your comments – thanks for reading!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *