The man was setting it up tonight for a little daddy-daughter campout in the basement. As soon as that thing hit the air, I was all, *sniff, sniff...sniff, sniff.* Since I was near the laundry, I instantly began frantically digging through the baskets of dirty laundry, smelling everything. "What on—how did that smell—is that in MY...Sweetie, do you SMELL that?!" "Oh, it's just the tent," he replies as he opens up the poles. I died. My brain was whisked into decontaminate and quarantine mode. "You can't sleep in that! You haaaave to take it outside!" My stomach started turning in knots while red lights and sirens swirled and blared in my head. I know this reaction isn't normal. I'm ok with that. The tent was immediately evacuated to the garage and that's all that matters.
But, to tell you the truth, I'm way bummed about losing a tent. I mean, is there anything we can even do? There's no way on this green earth that I'll ever sleep in that thing if it even has the faintest hint of mildew smell. Oh mildew gods, why hatest thou me so?
|RIP Mildew Tent - We had a good run.|