The one about the dead pigeon ….

I haven’t told you about Saturday night yet – I have left the best for last.  I suggest you put your poppy seed muffin aside for a bit, or eat it quickly before continuing to read.

Dinner ends, everyone goes home, and after saying goodbye to everyone, I walk back into the house.

I get this bad odour that whips past my nose at a certain area in our lounge.  I have been getting the same tinge for the last few days, but keep putting it down to something that is happening or not really dwelling on it.

It is not a strong odour, but it is a bad odour. 

Our lounge is not used much, and we have big sliding doors that are left open, so the smell was not strong, because (1) we had not been in the lounge and (2) there was constant flow of fresh air coming in.  The upper and lower door have also been open, so there was a lot of air flow during the week (because it had been so hot).

I stand there – it is about 22h00 on Saturday night – and instead of just walking through the lounge I stop and sniff, and this rather unfortunate smell assaults my nostrils.

I really hate a bad smell, and I know it has been hanging around for a few days, so I know I can’t ignore it anymoer.  It definitely is not coming from outside (as initially thought).

I stand and ponder this for a moment and then my beady eyes start moving around the lounge.  Our lounge is quite minimalist (which equals not well decorated and not a helluva lot of furniture) – so I am standing there looking around, trying to suss out where it could possibly be coming from.

Our lounge floor has white tiles (circa 1985 – the disco era), so it is not as if something could have been messed and absorbed into the carpet.

I consider that one of the kids could have dropped something on the floor and it could have rolled under the couch and that could be the smell I was getting.

I put my back into it and heave the couch about a meter from it’s present position, fully expecting to find a rotting apple.

What I did not expect to find was a great big dead pigeon!


Sounds like a job for Kennith.

I headed downstairs to the tv room and called for Kennith (and John – who is staying over) to come and sort the pigeon out.  I realize he was not going to be performing CPR, I just needed him to pick it up and throw it away. 

I do live animals, Kennith does dead animals.

Our tv room is on a level just below our lounge and there is a glass wall separating the two.  From the tv room I can look up into the lounge.  I close the door and sit in the tv room with Connor and chat to him, while I watch Kennith.

Now what happens next is put together from what I could see and hear, and what Kennith and John told me about the next day.

Kennith gets the big broom and the dustpan scoop and thinks he will just push the now deceased pigeon into the scoop.  Put him in a plastic bag and throw him away into our outside dustbin.

Easy enough.

What Kennith does not account for is that said pigeon has been dead since Monday (it is now Saturday) – and as he lifts the pigeon up with the broom, it allows the real smell to escape.  The smell of rank death.

Kennith is now gagging, not play acting gagging, but full on leaning over, eyes watering man-gagging.  John has entered the scene with the plastic bag he has found, and he takes one sniff of the odour of Senor Pigeon and he starts gagging, and leaves the room.

I am in the tv room and all I can see is this drama unfolding through the glass.  I can’t quite see the pigeon or smell the smell, but I see these two boys in a total state of mayhem in the lounge.

Kennith composes himself and uses the broom to try to move pigeon onto the dustpan scoop. 

Seems like another good plan.

However it seems that now pigeon has lost control of his inner organs due to what ever happens after rigor mortis stops, and his entire insides are now this greeny sticky slimey goo that is running all over our floor. 

But to detract from the smell of death and disease, is our troupe of friendly maggots who have taken up residence inside the pigeon and are now trying to flee the scene of the crime.

Kennith is trying to scoop up the pigeon, trying not to get pigeon death on his feet, and trying to round up the fleeing maggots in his dustpan scoop.  All whilst trying very hard to hold on to the pasta dinner he has just eaten.

Pigeon ends up in bin. Kennith and John are both feeling rather ill – and Kennith asks me to clean up the pigeon juice which is has leaked onto the lounge floor.

This is one of the few times I have been glad for white tiles.

I get jik and a bucket and clean the area, and lift little carpet and chair up, and leave everything to air.  Horrible, horrible, but problem sorted.

We all go to bed and that is that ………… or is it?

I really really wish it was.

Next morning Kennith, John and Natalie get up, put on some lycra, and ridiculous hats and go off and ride the Argus Cycle Tour.

I walk through to the kitchen at about 7am to get Isabelle a bottle, I walk into our little scullery and there are thousands of ants. 

I am like: “What the f&ck!”

I wish I could say I said “oh my goodness” but I didn’t.

There is a throng of ants – the part that is more confusing is we have not had much in the way of ants since we have lived in this house.  My brain is trying to understand what the hell is going on here and why would they appear so quickly.

Between the cussing and the confused look, I lean over to examine the ants.

Only to discover that among the ants are MAGGOTS – dozens if not hundreds of them!

I am like:”You are shitting me!”

My brain cannot spring into action.  My brain tries to look around for the dots so it can join it and make the picture.  I really cannot function unless my brain goes “there you go, dots connected..”

I am standing there staring at ants, staring at maggots, trying not to throw up, and trying to understand what is the connection from last night to now. (the scullery is two levels away from the lounge and there is no way even the fittest maggot could have got this far!)

Then I see it – the broom and the dustpan scoop – carefully placed right there next to the fridge, right next to our potatoes and other vegetables!


Guess who took a free ride up the levels via the broom and the scoop?  No prizes for getting this one right.

Of course at that point I was feeling less than gratious towards Kennith.

I mean seriously ……… seriously! 

At least I had the sense to take my bucket and mop outside after cleaning up after the CSI scene, and put them outside next to the house, not in the middle of the f&kn kitchen with our food!

Besides now standing in shorty jammies, and having Isabelle screaming for her milk – I am now up to my ankles on a Sunday morning in ants and maggots.

These are without a doubt, the best days of my life!

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  1. scaredmom

     /  March 18, 2011

    RM I never got around to reading this post at work yesterday, so I printed it for train reading (yes I still prefer it above 4-5min car trip and the possibility of being wizzed on is still there, lol) I was laughing so much that I a) almost wet myself and b) the people all stared at me like I was crazy. I’ve seen your TIGER Jackson and I’m sure he it was not him. He is just to damn cute.

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 18, 2011

      Tiger Jackson is a killer – he has long been bringing in birds, snakes, moles and other farm animals …. it is totally him! He wins you over with his meek and sweet nature, and then as you drop your guard he grabs you, semi decapitates you and drags you in to our house …. trust me has has guilt written all over him …..

  2. Really? Put your husband on Gumtree. “Free to good home. Will include beer. Please collect.”
    TOO funny! You.

  3. Oh my word, I just had the best laugh that I have had in a while. I also had that feeling that thingies were crawling all over my skin and in my hair, but the laugh made it worth while.

    Have we determined how the pigeon ended up under the couch?

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      I am blaming my cat Jackson, who is about to be renamed gumtree …. as that is where he is about to find himself …. very soon!

  4. Good lord. Am I glad I ate breakfast 3 hours ago! Still a bit of retching on this side. That is DISGUSTING. *vom*

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      I really need therapy to get it out of my head ………..

  5. Ha ha ha

    If they have problems leaving poo skids in the toilet and/or replacing a loo roll…..I s’pose stiff pigeons and maggots are bit out of their league !

    (men in my life are evolved….they do put the lid down, but alas still no loo roll replacement functions)

  6. To Love Bella

     /  March 17, 2011

    LOL aLOT at the first bit. Notsomuch at the last bit! These (precious?) boys of ours really just don’t think further than their noses! Rest assured that Travs would’ve done the same. At every single step.
    Oh the gagging had me chuckling and chuckling and schnorting…

  7. Sorry *blush* – I didnt meant to swear like that on your blog! You can edit it !

  8. Kiki

     /  March 17, 2011

    I second the Yuck Yuck and Yuck!!!
    But I did have to laugh at some parts of the story which then didnt make me feel so nauseaous.

    Men just dont think like we do…

  9. OH MY FUCK!!! I couldnt read all of that!! I was gagging too!!!!!

    When I got to the maggots I considered removing you from my reader (lol mention of lapses in parenting is fine but maggots – no way)!!

    I would have left Kennith – with the maggots and ants right there!

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      Problem is Kennith was sitting on a bicycle somewhere on a road …………..

  10. Claire

     /  March 17, 2011

    Yuck, yuck & triple YUCK !!!

    You are one strong woman, I would have crawled straight back into bed, screaming baby and all

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      The problem with that plan is the entire time I would be lying in bed, I would be picturing the ants and maggots and ……….. that often is not the image I want to keep with me ………

  11. Oh no that is so gross!!
    I remember when I lived with my brother we use to take turns to do the dishes and empty garbage. He always waited as long as possible before doing it. One night I went into the kitchen to get water and felt squishy things under my feet – turned on the light and there were maggots coming out the dustbin and all over the kitchen counter and floor. Dishes and rubbish had been there for more than a week…

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      Retch ….. retch …………. retch ………………..

  12. I am gagging and heaving just reading this. I would have called a maid service or something to deal with that, no way no how not if hell froze over would I deal with any of that!!!

  13. Oh my gosh, Thank you for being the funniest person out there…You always have me in stitches reading you posts out to my mom…then she starts and its just chaos in our house. Thank you.

    • reluctantmom

       /  March 17, 2011

      Thanks Shirley ……. I don’t find myself particularly funny, and I always find it amusing when other people do …… xx

  14. Sharon

     /  March 16, 2011

    That is soooo damn typical!!!! Exactly the kind of thing I can expect from my hubbie!


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