Whodda thunk? And how to debunk the funk, punk

Yes, okay: I love irony as much as the next guy. Probably more. (See?) But, despite the bon mots and pithy banter that is the running dialog of my head and my above ironic seasonal arrangement, there is more to this story. This story includes a phantom, screaming, nudity and lots of baking soda.

'Twas an ordinary night before Christmas and all through the house, I was stirring: turning off lights, picking up scattered things, closing curtains and, dang nabit, if the lawn guys didn't close that side gate... So, as to deter any would-be prowlers, I ventured into the dark and shadowy yard to close the side gate...

...When what did emerge from those shadows but a phantom! A phantom of two white stripes undulating on a pool of furry shadow darker than evil itself! Such phantom dashed from the dark between when there gate stood against the boundary wall to brush against my unsuspecting ankle! My very flesh! A true fright as I have never had.

I screamed a scream to rival any eleven-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. And turn and run I did, stomping my clogs across the bricks so loudly as to surely register with the USGS. Run I did, into the safety of my hallowed home, secure that I had outrun the shadow demon.

Did it get me? No.

Of course not. I am safe.

Wait.

"Did it get me?" I ask the perplexed children, awoken from their peaceful slumber.

Wait.

Wait.

A slight taste of curry. A tinge of rubber cement.

Wait.

Wait.

A scent of burning tires...

No, a scent of...

Wait...

SKUNK!

Punked. Skunked. Whodda thunk? It got me.

It sure as heck got me.

Upon which realization I dash out from the hallowed home in a frenzy to disrobe down to my birthday suit. I streak back into the house straight into the shower yelling to the gagging, coughing young ones, "Go on the Internet! Type in 'get rid of skunk smell'!"

A ghost story as ne'er was told.

But this post is also educational:

To get rid of skunk smell from yourself or a pet or a child, the magic recipe is this: Hydrogen peroxide and baking soda.

It works, it really does. Now, the way I recommend to punk your skunk-funk is to first give yourself a sticky layer of shower gel. If you have no shower gel, use shampoo or dishwashing liquid (it's an emergency, sister). Onto this, pour the hydrogen peroxide and baking soda mixture and lather up. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse, repeat in your best anxiety disorder fashion.

For your hair, however, unless you can suddenly sport that Billy Idol/Gwen Stefani look for reals, keep the hydrogen peroxide a good distance from your raven/auburn/ginger/mousey locks. Just pour lots and lots of baking soda into your damp hair, work in and let sit for a while before shampooing and rinsing. It worked. The smell was basically gone. For me, at least.

As far as how to debunk the skunk funk in the house? Well, Lysol spray, bowls of baking soda laying about and--this is the real debunker, I think--bowls of chlorine bleach scattered about. You know how undiluted chlorine bleach has that chemical, swimming-pool smell? Well, the bleach vapors seem to cancel out the sulfurous methyl and butyl thiols. Within a rather short time, we didn't really smell either the skunk funk or the bleach.

By this morning, a tiny bit of the musky-skunkiness lingers, but about as much as a skunky road kill one street over would. By this time, I can air out the house by opening doors and windows (couldn't do that last night, as the skunk funk was right outside the house). And then, to get into the spirit of the season, I went ahead and decked the hall with boughs of car fresheners.