It started as a small collection.
Just three or four had sprouted on the couch, and were relatively easily removed. I had them replanted in another area, where I could close the door on them. I didn’t have to look at them, nor was I bothered by them.
What happened next really shouldn’t have surprised me terribly.
I mean, the odour emitting from them was palpable; thick enough that it impeded the opening of the door. I pushed against it on one side, whilst on the other a fog of stench held it firmly in place.
I went to bed, safe in the knowledge they were behind a closed door.
When I rose early the next morning, three of the original four had merged, forming a lumpish mass that had adhered to the sofa bed. They looked like they were stuck fast, and moving them would be a challenge. The fourth had split off, and had managed to wedge itself in the blanket box.
It got worse. They had managed to spread into other areas of the house. Their spores, it seemed, had made their way down a flight of stairs, resulting in the burgeoning of an additional four, or is it five?, neoplasms. Hard to determine exactly, really.
It was early morning.
It was dark.
It appeared my house was being overwhelmed.
I just wanted to leave.
Possibly never return.
I was leaving my options open at this point.
I left it a few hours before texting my beloved to enquire about his wellbeing. Well, technically to see if he was still alive, or if he had succumbed to either the toxic gasses wafting about, the ear-piercing noise, or just the general, excessive chaos.
“I don’t know,” came his reply. “There are eight strangers in the house.”
Eight? I thought to myself.
“Erm. There were only six when I left. I think.”
For a moment there, I worried the re-spawning was never going to cease, and that it had got out of control. I was going to come home and find the bodies, some gangly, others chubby, of a plethora of teenagers covering every possible surface in the house. Including those surfaces that were already covered in all manner of substances, including, not limited to:
- Salt and vinegar chip crumbs
- Salt and vinegar chip packets, in a variety of stages of fullness
- Halal snack pack boxes (mostly empty)
- Random forks (two or three shared between seven of them)
- Milo granules
- A plate that no one can provide any insight into how it got where it did, nor, indeed, how long it had been there
- Someone’s leg
- I don’t know what that is
- No, I don’t want to know what it is, thank you very much for offering to enlighten me
And just like that, just as we thought we’d have to move out due to this unexpected infestation, they cleaned up, and cleared out.
Only to return again the next night, in varying shapes, sizes, and scents …
So, how are your school holidays going?