There's something about the smell of smokey bacon on a hot summer day in Nebraska that kick starts that gag reflex...

My mom and I went on a short trip to the bread store today which ended tragically. We made the mistake of taking the route which meant we had to drive by the bacon factory. BIG mistake. It's not all that hot out today, though in exchange for nice breezy weather, I get a mother that likes the windows up so her hair doesn't get messed up and the air off because, "it wastes gas". So around the time we hit the bacon factory, she says, " lets roll the windows down for a minute so we can get a little fresh air". We roll them down, and 5 seconds later, WHOSH! the smell hit us. like a canoe paddle to the face. And to make it even worse, the factory was a pretty lengthy strip of property and the road we were on had no intersecting roads to take you in the opposite direction of the stank...I threw up when we got home, and I'm fairly certain that I will have horrid dreams about this experience in the nights to come.