So the genius that built our house in 1932 thought that it was a brilliant idea to put a "laundry" chute in on of the bedrooms that's 12" wide, and 4" deep. Now, I'm not sure, but I think laundry in 1932, was pretty much the same, bulk-wise, as it is now. And if that is indeed the case, maybe they just thought it would be good for socks and pantyhose and such. Frankly, I don't think that they were "thinking" at all.
The chute has been clogged since Steven bought the house. I think it's safe to say it's probably been clogged since little Bobby threw his size 8 dungarees down there in 1932. (Were there dungarees in 1932?) Anyway, I've spied Steven, on at least 3 occassions trying to unclog the clog all to no avail. I don't want the thing unclogged...it's dysfunctional and serves no purpose.
Can you see from the title of my post where this is going? Um....yea.
There's been a bit of a stink in that room lately, which by the way is Oliver's and Linus' room, and I've had the hardest time finding it. I was beginning to think something died in the attic. Today....I open the little door to the chute, and woohoo...there it was.
So I call Oliver upstairs and calmly ask:
Me: Oliver, have you been throwing anything down there?
Oliver: Yep, my pull-ups.
Me: How many times?
Oliver: oh...3 or 4
That's all, I don't think I need to say anymore. Good night.