That's cheesy, O'Reilly

This story came about when a young lady suggested to write something about cheese. The original post had a different ending which I cut off, because it turned it into a children's story. (still might be one, but not as much anymore)
Anyway, I love cheese and apparently, so does O'Reilly.....


O'Reilly hauled the shopping bag into the tiny kitchen of his cottage, where he hoisted it on the table. He had just finished emptying everything on the table when the phone in the living room began to ring noisily. Throwing the bag on the chair in the corner, he shuffled off.

Three days later his grandson Toby sat in the kitchen, munched on roast potatoes, washed it all down with buttermilk and chattered his grandfather's ears off.
When the boy was finally satisfied enough that he would safely survive the next half hour (man grandpa, call me a Turkey, I'm stuffed!), Toby wandered around and, as always, looked at the old, faded photographs and embroidered samplers hanging there.
His route led him past the corner where an old, rickety chair stood, that O'Reilly's grandfather had made himself. Suddenly he said, "Man Grandpa, but this stinks! Man, was that the cat?"

What? O'Reilly was taken aback.

Didn't she always use the litter pan in the bathroom or went outside? He began to look around himself, sniffing and searching.

Indeed! Why, the little.......

Then he noticed the shopping bag and suddenly he remembered something....

"Well," said O'Reilly, "have a quick look in the icebox, boyo and tell me whether the Limburger is inside or not."
The Limburg Cheese was not in the refrigerator, but in the shopping bag in the warm kitchen. And the smell that curled Toby's nosehair, was not O'Reilly's little tiger cat to blame for, but an imported cheese from Germany.....