Fried food and chicken poop

So, yesterday I made an 8 hour round-trip drive with Andy. Well, 3/4 of the drive was with Andy and the other 1/4 I drove a mini-van back to his place of employment. This drive was made in the afternoon and evening, so the kids arrived home on the bus from their place of education. When they left for said place of eduction that morning, I didn't know that I would be gone when they came back to the home-base, so I didn't have dinner made for them.

Their Auntie Tara (sometimes know as Auntie Booby) came over and made cookies with Nattie, so I called her up to tell her that the kids could cook up some hamburgers and throw some salad on their plate and call it good. She took me up on it, and when Andy and I arrived at home-base the smell of fried food hit us like a brick when we opened up the door.

Andy's way to solve the problem of the smell was to open up the window in our bedroom. Whoa. Fried meat is not pleasant. The chicken barns are not pleasant. Add them together and you have downright biological warfare possibilities. I'm thinking about bottling it and contacting the Pentagon. There are possiblities here, I'm telling you.