That's right. Skunk patrol.
Earlier in the week the landlord's father was over doing his usual puttering around. He started talking to the neighbors who told him there's a skunk living under our shed. Apparently they've seen it multiple times. I haven't seen or smelled a skunk since we arrived, but it makes sense to take the word of hippies who have been known to smoke things that give the neighborhood a unique fragrance over the word of someone who is completely clearheaded. The landlord's father put a trap behind the shed and asked me to check it daily and report back my findings. Annabelle likes to get in on the action but I try to keep her far away to avoid this type of situation:
I have plenty of time to check the trap in between hand washing all our dishes. Our dishwasher started it's slow death around the time we returned from Texas. (Isn't this RIVETING?) I never think about all the dishes when I talk about going back to a time when life was more simple and we didn't rely on machines so much. We finally got our new dishwasher on Wednesday. It was the Big Event of our day. I almost wanted to break a bottle of champagne and christen the dishwasher before it's first use. My joy only lasted so long. It isn't draining so a repair man and the landlord will be over shortly to look things over. Looks like I'll be giving the landlord my daily skunk report in person.
(Side note about the landlord and his father- they're both named Jim and they both love Annabelle. The older Mr. Jim comes over so often he is familiar with Annabelle's nap schedule. If he comes by at 1:30 and she's still up he'll ask why she's not sleeping yet. If he comes by around 3:30 he pokes his head around the house looking for her. I might hire him as a babysitter. One of my main requirement for childcare is someone who understands naps.)
Meanwhile, things have been pretty stressful in Annabelle's world. It really would have pushed her over the edge if I gave her a popsicle.