A stinky tale

Last night we skipped our church's mid-week service to lay low and hang out.

Meaning Russell worked out in our shop building shelves and I was talked into bringing out a book so I could sit nearby and watch him. You could say he's a bit of a "people person". Eventually all three of our children had wandered over to us and were playing in and around the shop for a good 10 minutes at least before Kendall yelled out: "Daddy there's a skunk!"

But not just any skunk. A trapped skunk. THIRTY FEET FROM WHERE I WAS SITTING.

Russell had set a "live" trap several days ago to catch raccoons that have been getting into our garbage but it had been sitting empty until this guy got in, and we all walked right past him to get to the shop. 

I may have started to hyperventilate. Russell ran for the .22 while I begged him to let me run for cover (the house) before making the poor thing spray. 

At this point I should probably tell you that when faced with a pesky varmint all reason goes out the window in my husband's head. He has been known to try to shoot a skunk WHILE IT'S UNDER OUR FRONT PORCH before. I know this fact because I was sitting in the car in our driveway at the time, yelling my head off for him to stop the madness. Not that he could hear me of course because you better believe there was no way I was going to open the door or even crack the window a bit. I'm a little afraid of skunk spray. 

Anyway, as you can probably imagine I did not have any better success last night and before I knew it the skunk had gone on to meet it's Maker and I was frozen in outrage waiting for the stench to hit me. Except it didn't, and Russell was quite confident that he'd avoided that dreaded fate. Until the wind shifted.

And after that I couldn't tell you what happened because I told my husband he was on his own, bee-lined it for the house, and refused to be on speaking terms with him for the rest of the evening. Well at least until he came inside looking quite guilty. Guy's got charm I tell ya.  

And if you are horrified at the violence in this tale I will just say that until you have lived through a series of skunk sprays under your house that render your entire wardrobe offensive to the nose and make people comment, "I smell skunk" when you walk into the room, for days, then please don't judge. Welcome to life in the country!