The (Very Short) Story of My Life

Dear Friends and Gentle Readers,

The following is a thing that happened to me recently, and I decided to write a humorous essay about it. This is a first draft. Hopefully, you will be seeing this piece again as you follow me through the revision process. For now, please enjoy this (as yet unconcluded) story of my vast idiocy and ineptitude at domesticity. 

-Uranium J

(Everything  Counts) In Large Amounts

A load of my husband’s PT clothes were soaking in the washing machine. I tossed in a pair of my daughter’s underwear from school. She is potty training and had had an accident. While there was no solid poop, there was residue. The lid was open. My sinuses were not. I was very ill all week and forgot about it. 

On Saturday, I could smell and the odor of poop filled the house. I washed the clothes. They smelled. I dried them, thinking heat would kill the odor. It did not. I repeated the process. The next day I pulled them out of the dryer. The smelled. I washed them again. Mind you, through the other 2 washing I had used all of my vinegar and baking soda. They were still smelly. 

I was running out of options. I was desperate. The internet said the smell was from live bacteria. What kills bacteria? Alcohol! So, I poured a whole bottle in the washer and filled it up to soak. Then I remembered: alcohol is flammable. But there’s no heat in a washer, and anyway, there’s water. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Apparently, just fire and explosion. So now I was faced with the arduous task of pulling out the washer and draining the tub manually, all the while hoping that whatever residue remained didn’t blow the sides out of my house the next time I did laundry. Meanwhile, I had no idea how I was going to get all the alcohol out of the clothes and whether or not I had succeeded in deodorizing them. 

The next day, I decided to take my chances and I ran the washing machine through the rinse and spin cycles. Nothing exploded, crisis was averted. The clothes were still smelly. The time had come for more drastic actions. I went to the store in search of something to rid these clothes of their stink. I had visions of myself with green kitchen gloves up to my elbows, wide eyes, and frazzled hair pouring various sundry chemicals into the machine and laughing like a mad woman. 

"More vinegar! More baking soda! Cornstarch! Table salt! Borax!"

 I would get the clothes clean or die trying. 

Thankfully, it did not come to that. In the laundry aisle I found a bottle of Febreeze laundry deodorizor for $9.95. I was skeptical, but it came with a money back guarantee so I bought the stuff and headed home to do battle once again. I filled the washer and then added two caps of the Febreeze. 

Then, I waited. 

I figured it would be worthwhile to let the stuff sit awhile and work it's magic. Several hours later I closed the lid and let the machine run through another cycle. Pensive, I waiting for the load to finish. I was certain that it would fail. I began searching online for industrial strength laundry chemicals. I lit a candle. I prayed. 

  

Thankfully, this was not my fate. Source.