Take Time To Smell The Roses…
Written By My Sister-In Law Bethany Atherton
Some places you go in life have a way of marking you forever.
They just leave a sort of residue on your mind that stays with you long after you leave.
Recently, Grace and I had the privilege, delight, and hilarity of a 16-hour-one-way road trip together.
It was late afternoon by the time we wrapped up our lollygagging and dilly-dallying in the lovely state of Colorado, and began to head for home – east across Kansas.
Tired
I knew it would be a late night’s drive, but by the time 10:30pm or so hit and I’d failed to find a hotel, I was so tired I was contemplating sleeping in the car…and delirium was creeping up on both of us.
It was then that my dear hubby called, could hear the tiredness in my voice, and offered to book us a hotel not far down the road, which I gratefully accepted.
‘Twas then we first noticed a pungent smell filling the car.
“Ugh! What IS that?!” I asked Grace in disgust.
Awful
“I don’t know but it’s AWFUL,” she replied.
A few more minutes down the road, we hoped perhaps we’d passed whatever it was – and made the immediately regrettable decision to open the windows.
MORE CAME IN.
It was like open sewage. Worst public restroom on steroids. Plus roadkill.
And suddenly it was hilarious. IT got worse and worse, but we both started laughing, our eyes starting to water already from the very real green cloud filling our little car.
Meanwhile my poor husband is on the phone, probably thinking we’re losing our minds, but patiently getting us a hotel room and sending the address.
Really Bad…
“No, you don’t understand,” I squeaked into the phone, “It’s SO bad!! Like really, REALLY bad!!”
Then, as we turned down the street to the hotel, the last thread of my sanity snapped, as we beheld, as if on cue –
A row of four toilets in a front yard, illuminated by purple footlights.
A shrine to the stink.
Howled
We HOWLED. Tears streamed down my face. My stomach hurt. I thought I was going to wet my pants.
My husband gave something like a helpless chuckle from the phone as we blasted his eardrums with laughter.
We pulled into the hotel parking lot, gasping for breath and trying to calm it down…when in front of our parking space, we both read the little yellow sign…
Buried
“WARNING: Buried Fiber.”
That did it. We burst out laughing all over again, as Grace quipped, “I think that fiber’s expired!” and I added “It’s not buried either, it’s exposed!!”
Grace jokingly rebuked Beelzebub, lord of the flies and we laughed more.
“We gotta pull ourselves together and get into the building,” I said with a deep breath. “I wonder…is it going to be any better inside? Surely. It has to be…”
Hot Air…
The hot night air was heavy and pungent, as we looked through our burning eyes to the hotel doors in hopes of relief…
The automatic doors slid open, and a big, fresh waft of stink rushed out to meet us. If this was a cartoon, we would have collapsed into the floor, but we had to carry on, making our way to the front desk, our noses beginning to be resigned to their fate.
I addressed the man sitting there.
Wink
As he was getting us checked in, head down, Grace winked at me and said, as casually as she could manage, choking back her laughter,
“So…what’s your town known for?”
“Grace!” I chided in a whisper, eyes widened at her mischief.
She just had to know how in the world he’d sell this situation to out-of-towners.
The man said, “Well…cattle, for one…there’s about 50,000 cows across the road in a feed lot.”
Aha. The source discovered. Poor souls! No living animal should have to smell like that!
Wind Blows
“Yeah,” he continued, “In the winter the wind comes from the other direction and it gets a little better, but in the summer, the wind blows it this way and it can get pretty strong…”
We ambled our exhausted feet to our room, the breeze in the hallway causing the smell to wane a bit…
We stood at the door hoping for the best as I swiped the key and pushed it open.
Again a fresh waft bombards us.
Is it possible that there could be a stink so bad one can’t sleep??
Grace announced, “I’m getting a bath regardless!” and started running the water, “I hope the water doesn’t smell, too!”
Dive-bombing
Meanwhile, as we attempted to settle in, sure enough Beelzebub could be heard dive-bombing our heads with a loud “BZZZZZZZZZ!!!! BZZZZZZZZZ!”
“Oh my gosh Grace, there’s actually a fly in here!”
“I know how to take care of that!” she reassured me.
We turned all the lights off except the bathroom light, and in he flew – where we were able to successfully trap and dispatch him with a hand towel.
We lay down to try to sleep, and I buried my face in the pillow hoping for some relief.
Eventually we did drift off, and awakened in the morning with burning questions…
“Is it a little bit better, OR are we just used to it now??”
Christened
“Are we going to walk around stinking today and not know it??”
I’ve never been happier to leave a place and get back on the road, but we will carry the memories of Stinktown – as Grace christened it, its real name we shall not divulge to protect the innocent and the guilty! – in our hearts and minds forever!
Hopefully just our hearts and minds and not anywhere else…you can bet we washed all of our clothes and blankets really well when we got home!
You know they always say to stop and smell the roses, but just know you won’t be able to smell them in Stinktown.
Check out her custom artwork on her page HERE: Be Joyful In Art
These two girls are a huge cup of Hilarion they are a tag team of their own kind of comedy. These CREATIVES have tapped into the beauty realm. Remember to check out Grace’s book Hooves Touch the Wind. An easy read, and authentic view on how to navigate today’s life challenges. See attached link for B.E. Joyful Creations custom made joy inspired earrings, and other custom made products that will make you smile 🌺