Tag Archives: gross

A fart fan that clears the air and scares the crap out of you.

7 Aug

It’s a big title for a blog but it’s so accurate I couldn’t help it. Here’s why: we recently discovered that one of the bathroom fart fans in our home had become the home of many wasps.

I only realized this after several times of cleaning up small black specs from the toilet lid.

I thought, what is this? It’s not poop. Where is it coming from?

Look up.

Fart fan.

Insect legs peeking through the vent.


Yell for Andrew who just thinks I’m just freaking out over bugs as usual.

He takes a closer look and then squints his eyes and shockingly states, “Those are wasps.”

He taps the vent and then jerks back when a “buzz, buzz” sounds from inside the fan.

The discovery and his seriousness immediately prompts my-oh-my-gosh-it’s-so-gross bug dance.

He instructs me to turn on the fan and shut the door.

He then climbs 20 feet up, armed with a flashlight in his mouth and a can a wasp killer in his hand. (It was 9:30 pm.) The rest is picture history.

Here is the aftermath from inside our house:

Here is the view from the scene of eviction and aftermath from the outside:

I still can’t help but feel bad about the ones we killed. Then again, they could have hurt the kids and they weren’t paying rent.

Upchuck Sucks

1 Mar

There is no pretty way to share this.  If you have a weak stomach or just don’t feel like reading about this subject, I understand if you skip this post.  I really wouldn’t want to read it either but misery loves company and all of that so here it is.

Since being a mom, I have heard, “Mommy, I threw up on myself” maybe four times.  Each time, I heard the voice before I saw the helpless child.  Each time, my brain had a few seconds to imagine the worst and, luckily for all involved, it wasn’t so badThat is, until tonight.

Man, was she covered.  Well, more like caked. Ech.  There she stood, frozen, arms out, pasted in clumps of chunk. She wasn’t even the worst of it.  The bed, the tent on her bed, her beloved stuffed creatures (including her precious doggy Andrew sent her from Iraq when she was a baby), all of her special blankeys and her Barbie she fondly calls “Hannah Montana.”  Poor Barbie/Hannah.  She was really caught in the cross fire.  There probably was an outline on the bed where she was because she took the brunt of it.

Are you still with me?

I just find it so amazing what we all are capable of as parents.  From the stomach-turning throw up situations like tonight to the horrifying time they sampled poop as a snack (what, that hasn’t happened to you?), what prepared us for this?  I find it incredible that we go into parent-mode and take care of business.  I mean, really?  Andrew will get sick at just the thought of throw up (he probably did just by reading this – if he did read it that is) and he took all of her sheets off of her bed.  I touched vomit.  Lots of it.  With my bare hands.

We just do what we have to do I guess.  If we don’t who will right?  It’s not like I can say, “Nope.  I’m not going to fix that right now.”  I’m proud to say my hands smell like bleach, Nia is clean and sleeping in a fresh bed and I only threw away her p.j. shirt and pillow.  (If we were made of money the sheets would likely be trashed too.)

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