I just googled, "six people, a mastiff, and two great danes," and my search turned up zero pictures of anyone as idiotic as I am for allowing this to happen. But, there were lots of ads on the sidebar for booze and insane asylums. Score.
My mother-in-law posted this on my Facebook page tonight. I love that woman so much.
Ok, back to the post, I guess. I am even procrastinating when it comes to writing about laundry. That's how much I hate it. Between things my dogs have drug across the yard, a not-so-potty-trained toddler, three girls who are huge fans of midday costume changes, and the two adults in the household, there is a shit ton of laundry. And, no one likes to do it. I binge wash everything in the house about once a week that I have let pile up in the laundry room. And, for about ten minutes every week our laundry room is sparkling clean.
Well, awhile back, we all noticed a smell coming from the laundry room but everyone assumed it was layers of wet things baking in the room that conveniently has a door on it so we can try our hardest to just shut it out of existence. The room that shall not be named.
The only adjective I can really use to describe the smell so that you'll understand what I'm talking about is "barf-o-rama."
I want this poster for the laundry room (shit, already blew it)...
I mean, the ____ ____ door.
I mean, the ____ ____ door.
Anyway, the stench that was coming from the _____ _____ was so bad. So, so bad. My husband swore there was something either dying or dead in there. We washed everything in the ______ _____. I bleached the washing machine's innards. Then, I used apple cider vinegar in a hot, empty cycle. Then, I bleached it again. Still, the smell was all consuming. It wouldn't stop smelling.
Man, I really loved the movie Stand By Me. Remember the lady who barfed in her purse??
After awhile the smell faded and we didn't want to pour gasoline on the stacks of pee pants and blankets so much anymore in the _____ _____. We went on about our lives and nobody barfed on anyone or anything for a long, long time.
If you're having a hard time figuring out what this shriveled little son of a bitch is, it's a snake.
Even though I'll never sleep, do laundry, or go barefoot anywhere in my house again, I am thankful for three things after knowing about this jerkwad's existence.
1. I held off doing laundry for so long that my husband had to wash his own clothes and he was the one who found the snake.
2. It was dead.
3. It will ALWAYS be dead.
These are the three things I am not grateful for, in no particular order.
1. It existed. In my home.
2. My middle daughter will also never sleep again.
3. It was a baby and all I can imagine is a thousand other baby snakes roaming behind things in the house, growing, waiting, slithering...
Oh, and a fourth thing I am grateful for is a super amazing, awesome family who totally gets me. Right after my husband found this creature born to torment me, he said, "Hey, you should totally turn that into jewelry!"
And, when my daughter got home from school and I showed her the lifeless reptile, she said the same thing. We rock this family unit business. I think I'll stick to good old sterling silver jewelry if I want to wear a snake, though.
If you are my husband and you are reading this, this necklace is bookmarked for Xmas purposes.
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