Atomictumor

We tried to ignore it.  Over the past three days, a mystery stench has been growing, spreading odiferous tentacles of pure hatred throughout my house.  Its epicenter appeared to be the kitchen, but as is the way with such things, it was tricksy and difficult to pinpoint.
Sometimes it takes a stranger to your household to sniff out nefarious odors, since you become accustomed to the smells of your own house.  This was not such a case.  I woke up this morning, and the smell hit me like a sucker-punch to the nose.  I decided then and there that it would be my mission to track down the beast and slay it.  With orange spray.
I decided to start with the dishwasher.  I doubted its complicity in this crime, but I hadn’t pulled it out since we moved in and was sure it was a bit dodgy down there.  After finding the proper screwdriver, it was a smooth job, taking only a couple of minutes to pull it out, sweep and spot-mop the gaping maw where it once quietly crept, and to cram it back in its space.
On now, to the fridge.  This seemed to be the logical home to whatever stinky nemesis I searched for.  It’s not been that long since it was cleaned out (most recently the period of serious broke-ness in which we had almost nothing in there), but some recondite red liquid in an unlabled pill bottle had apparently leaked everywhere.  I think it may have been fake blood.
I poked and prodded through our staples, looking for the usual suspects of stink.  No rotten meat, no moldy (or mouldy) cheese, no soured milk, no rotting fruits or vegetables.  I looked to the door, merely glancing over the various bottles of salad dressing, A-1, mustard and ketchup, expecting nothing out of the ordinary, and then I saw it.  A package of buttermilk biscuits, meant to remain frozen until use.  Unfrozen.
Having discarded the biscuits, I tossed out a few other things, just to hedge my bets.  And now, several hours later, I’m happy to say the only stinky thing in the house is Pigpen.
And then, the water. 
Apparently, I got a little overzealous in my cleaning efforts.  In retrospect, I guess I must have tugged on the dishwasher a little harder than necessary and somehow messed up the line that takes water to the dishwasher.  Upon arriving home, AT discovered water on the kitchen floor.  By stepping in it.  The problem appears to be a class B leak, meaning duct tape ain’t gonna do it.  So AT’s headed out to Home Depot to find a replacement hose for the beast.

We’ll keep you updated.