A blend between reality and fiction

"Do you smell that," Veev asked me.

How could I not, I thought. The smell was awful. I wonder if anyone is dead in here, I said aloud, only half kidding.

There was an old lady who lived in the house, and maybe the younger people left for the weekend, and the old lady was supposed to leave, but she never made it.

It could have happened.

So we walked around the house, sniffing and smelling, trying to uncover the source of the malodorous scent.

I shoudl say here, that Veev and I were not at our home. We were in New Jersey, where we always have to remind ourselves that it does not smell as nice here as it does back in Michigan. To put it politely.

But anyway, this scent was way beyond typical New Jersey aroma. This was something.
Something frightening.

And then it hit us.

There was no one dead in the house, a quick room to room search was enough to make us believe that.

The smell that we were smelling, was a diaper. Not a clean diaper. I used one.

Not recently used, either.

And probably, if there was one rouge diaper laying around the house somewhere, there was probably more. Maybe a whole pack of dirty diapers just sitting and smelling.

We went up to our room, and put our clothes away. I should add that our hosts are very lovely, very nice people, and we have stayed here numerous times before. But this time, they were away for Shabbos, and far enough away to not smell the offensive odor.

I asked my brother in law, a real life EMT for New York City, if he could come by and save us. Maybe he could track us down. But there was only a short time before Shabbos, and he wa in the middle of a different emergency.

So he suggested I call Hatzaloh.

Ten minutes ago, Two ambulances and three cars carrying five medics rushed the house, and within minutes, found the offensive diaper. The house has returned to its typical New Jersey scent.