I bought a refill of cumin (my favorite spice) a few weeks ago. Opened it, smelled it, didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all. It was a weird cumin, not the normal cumin. I ended up tossing it and taking the trash bag all the way out to the curb.
Got some more cumin on Friday (with much sniffing and trepidation) to put in my Aunt Carol’s chili recipe. It smelled a little funny, too, but I figured that it was just my imagination. Which it was.
I made the chili on Friday to eat on Sabbath (wow, what organization! no PBJ for Sabbath lunch!), so the house smelled like chili when the kids came over for small groups. After everyone left, I came here to the computer to check my email (etc) and sniffed: Cumin.
Why was the cumin smell so strong in this room…especially after it had been filled with smelly teenage boys? I kept sniffing. I was actually getting distressed, because my favorite spice was overpowering me and making my stomach turn.
Did my children make off with the fancy new cumin bottle and stash it somewhere for future revelry?
I left the room to get ready for bed. Came back through to turn off the light I had missed–when I discovered the culprit.
As I’ve mentioned before, something generally gets abused or broken every Friday night that we host youth small groups. Picture frames being the most common target of teenage exuberance.
Well, this time it was the light stand. Even though tucked into a corner, someone managed to knock the plastic shade enough that it leaned against the lightbulb and melted. Melted a perfectly round hole right through the plastic.
That particular kind of plastic smells like cumin when it melts.
My apologies to my children for thinking they pinched the new cumin bottle.