We all know that there is no point in crying over spilt milk. But what if someone forgets to clean up said milk and it begins to stink out the car?
It’s been one of those weeks, folks. A week where I seem to have been constantly behind schedule. Seven days where I just can’t catch a break. 168 hours where even the place I hold dearest appears to be conspiring against me.
I’m talking about Costco, obviously. And I’m talking about it, because that is where this calcium-packed sob story begins. The Bubster and I go to Costco a lot, and whenever we get to the till we follow the same routine. The little man gives the checkout operator my card, then I put him on the checkout and he “helps” me or the assistant put the stuff back in the trolley. This Monday, our haul included a double pack of full fat milk, which the Bubster “helpfully” threw into the trolley. Upon initial inspection no liquid appeared to be leaking out, but when I got home and opened the boot there was cow juice everywhere.
My first poor decision
At this point, the Bubster was tired, hungry and screaming for his mummy (who was still at work), so I decided the best course of action would be to shovel some food in his mouth and deal with the spilt milk “later”. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?
Funny I should ask, as when the Bubster and my wife got into the car the following morning the stench was stinkier than the one given off by a full nappy bin on a hot summer’s day. (To tie up the loose end from the previous paragraph: the aforementioned “later” never came, because my kid wouldn’t sleep and I had been up since 5.30am, so I collapsed on sofa and completely forgot to do everything on my to-do list. If you’re a parent, you probably know the drill).
To her great credit, my wife decided to take the bull by the horns and visit the local hand car wash. An inside and out valet clean would evict the odour, right? Wrong. It did next to nothing, putting the ball back in my court.
Fast forward three days, two deep cleans of the boot carpet and… …the smell lingers as potently as it ever did. Which is why I have decided to drop to my virtual knees and beg for your help. Really? Yes, really. I know I’m usually the one who dishes out on-point parenting advice, but tonight it’s your turn. If any of you has a) any experience of getting milk stink out of a car or carpet, or b) a cleaning idea that could enable my family to live in a future where we can drive places without the windows down, please, please, please tell me all about it in the comments section below this article.
I’m serious. This is not a drill. I need your help. And I need it now. Please don’t let me down, people.
Until next time…