The other day we shelled out a bunch of somewhat non-existent money to buy halaal meat at the only remaining desi shop in Athens. It was meant as preparation for a well-stocked kitchen in Ramadan.
Sadly, on our return, the person who is supposed to unload the car forgot a bag full of chicken and goat meat. The other person, who generally points out omissions, (cough) was too preoccupied with academic work to notice. (One moral of the story: academic-types, don’t marry *within* the community).
A day and a half later, when I was taking Raihana to school, I was overpowered by a nasty stench in the car. I looked for baby-discarded food in the seats and found none. “Is there some way a lizard or mouse could have CLIMBED inside the car and died there?” I asked Svend. He shook his head uncertainly. Eventually when I did a thorough search, I unearthed a rotting bag full of dreadful stinking meat under the stroller in my nice car.
The garbage can outdoors smells for yards and yards. I have sneakily begged Svend to dump the bag elsewhere, and he refuses to take it anywhere in his car. As for my car, thoroughly cleaned out – fortunately the meat had sat and bled out only on a leathery surface that could be removed and thoroughly hosed down – still smells like a corpse. It’s enough to turn us all vegetarians if we were not devout carnivores.