Swearing Over Spilt Milk

Due to a timely seasonal cold, I didn't at first smell anything as I hopped into the van to take the kids to school. But the oldest one declared that it smelled like garbage when she got into it. The youngest one entered and said it smelled like cheese. She looked around and quickly isolated the issue, a carton of milk left in the rear seat cupholders.

She retrieved it and handed it to me, bulging at the seams and very much feeling like I was handling a live grenade with life and death possibilities. I gently opened up my door, walked it to the outside garbage can and disposed of it. My youngest said it had dripped onto the floor as she had retrieved it but fortunately we have floor liners and not carpet.

Our local school system only goes half of a day on Fridays and so doesn't serve lunch to those in high school. Instead they just give them a sack lunch and a carton of milk. Near as I can figure, with spring break and a European vacation thrown into the mix, that carton of milk has been sitting in the back of my van for three weeks now and thanks to the recent spate of warmish weather, was getting ready to detonate. 

I dropped the kids off and returned home but by then, was starting to smell the funk myself. I opened all the windows and sprayed down and wiped the surfaces all around where the milk had been sitting and wiped up all the drips on the floor liner. Hopefully by early afternoon when I need to use the van again, the funk will have dissipated. For once I am thankful for an impaired nose.

Kids.