The Story of the Beautiful Washing Machine

As I may have mentioned in my last post, we arrived in Birmingham in the late evening with a plastic bag of peed-on clothes, along with the rest of our luggage.

So even though I was super-tired when we got to my in-laws' house, it was necessary for me to wash some clothes. My mother-in-law said we could use her new washing machine.

As the kids were getting ready for bed, I entered the laundry room with the pee-clothes and a few other things to round out the load. I opened the the lid of the washing machine.

It was so beautiful.

Seriously. I actually called GG in to look at the inside of this machine because it was so shiny and CLEAN.

I felt like Indiana Jones.

(image from wikia.com)

I said to GG, "I feel bad putting our dirty clothes in this gorgeous washing machine." I was only half-kidding.

But I put them in anyways. After all, you can't leave pee-soaked clothes unwashed too long. I'd already delayed almost 24 hours, an unfortunate necessity while transporting the nasty things four thousand miles or so.

I delayed going to bed until the clothes were done so I could get them into the dryer. Even though I was dead-tired. But when the cycle was done, I got a nasty shock.

Someone had left GUM in their POCKET.

Yep. And what's nastier than a washing machine full of zillions of tiny gum bits? Not much.

So... I was stuck sitting up even later picking off and scraping up all that gum. 

Did I mention I was dead-tired?

But the worst part was: I had defiled this beautiful pristine piece of equipment within an hour of being introduced to it.

This is why I don't have nice stuff. And, if you have any nice stuff, you should probably keep me away from it.

UGH! Here we go again...

This week we played another round of that exciting game, "What the heck is that horrible smell?!"

This time we noticed a certain distasteful odor in the garage Sunday morning. We weren't sure of the origin, although a gas leak or sewer seepage were mentioned as possibilities.

By Sunday evening it was really bad. My husband came into the garage, sniffed the air, and said, "That's a dead thing." Then he left.

We looked around but the dead thing could not be located on first glance. I knew a full search would have to be performed on Monday.

I left the windows up in the van for the night to keep the smell from invading the car, and I hung a new air freshener from the rearview mirror.

Monday morning GG went into the garage to get something before school, and she immediately came back. "I don't really need it," she gasped, covering her mouth and nose and shutting the door quickly.

I opened the outside door to try to air things out, but the stink in the garage was still horrendous. We held our collective breaths as we ran to the van and shut the doors.

Inside the car the scent of Perfectly Pomegranate battled valiantly with the the stench of Dead Thing. The air was bearable, but only just.

It was imperative to that we find out the source of this bad smell, but I felt weary at the very thought of moving everything stored in the garage to try to find the horror that might lurk behind all those boxes.

ET said I should hire an exterminator. "I'll bet if you gave some guy a hundred bucks he'd find the dead thing."

I looked at her. "I'll give you fifty to find it."

"Done!" she said, a little too quickly. I probably should have low-balled her a bit more.

(Image from http://clutter-free-mind.blogspot.com)

When we got home I parked the van outside and left the door open. ET began moving things out of the garage piece by piece.

Then she stood still and thought. She knew it would be smarter to try and find the source of the smell, but somehow it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Then she saw a few flies buzzing around and she had a thought.

"Follow the flies," she said to herself.

Or maybe it was Yoda who said it. (Although wouldn't he have said "The flies you follow"?)

Anyways, she realized that the flies would go directly to the dead thing. So she waited, and the cloud of flies gathered and formed and hovered around....

THE VAN!!!  Under which she saw few flies darting around a couple of gray feathers.

"Eureka!" said ET, and she came to me. In her best elementary-my-dear-Watson-style, she triumphantly informed me of her conclusion:

"Mother! I have deduced that the dead thing is a bird, and that it is under the hood of your car! You owe me fifty bucks!"

With extreme trepidation, I pressed the button and popped the hood.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww................

"Now how am I going to get that thing out of there?" I wondered aloud.

ET shrugged. "That would cost you another fifty," she said, and went into the house.

I hate flies

I've mentioned this before.

But it's still true: I really hate flies.

Recently a fly got trapped in the bathroom and I was trying to kill it before I went to bed. I spent at least twenty minutes whacking the mirror, the shower door, the walls, and plain old air with a rolled-up magazine.

Finally I managed to knock the fly down, and fortunately, it landed in the sink where I could wash it away. I watched it trying to swim, waving its nasty little fly legs in vain as it swirled down the drain.

Ha! I thought. So long, sucker!

I went to bed in peace, knowing that fly was in its watery grave.

The next morning it was back! I have no idea how, but it had crawled up out of the drain sometime during the night and was sitting in the bowl of the sink, quite still. I couldn't believe it!

I ran the faucet again, and once again it tried to swim as it slowly sank down the drain. Ha! I thought again.

The fly had been a valiant opponent, but it was no match for an intelligent mammal like me.

Or at last that's what I tell myself.

(above image from www.zazzle.com)

Games Mommy Plays

Today I played a full round of that fun game called “Where the Heck is That Awful Smell Coming From?”

I’m very experienced in this game, having played many times. It can be performed in different locations throughout the house or car; today’s edition was held in the twins’ room.

Last night I tried playing only the short version, but the removal of a sippy cup full of curdled chocolate milk and the slimy ooze-covered book it was resting on (both extracted from under Little Boy’s bed) failed to produce the desired end-game result.

In other words, the twins’ room still really reeked.

So today I attacked the problem in earnest. I picked up absolutely everything from the floor, then vacuumed and shampooed the carpet. I also moved all the furniture, vacuuming and shampooing underneath, concentrating especially under Little Boy’s bed. I went over every inch of that room.

The twins’ room looks really clean now.

Unfortunately, IT STILL SMELLS BAD!

Come to think of it, this game isn’t really all that fun….

(image from clipartof.com)

My house vs. Pinterest house

 

On pinterest they have lots of ideas to make your home beautiful and organized.

One idea is to have places for each person to put their things in each room. I do this, but because we have a lot of people, it doesn't quite look as nice as it should.

For example, here's pinterest's organized entryway.

I actually do this. I have labeled places for each child's school bag, and a shelf, et cetera.

Except in my house, it looks like this:

Not bad. But not Martha Stewart quality, by any means.

Now this idea, for the laundry room, using an individual basket for each person's clean clothes, which they will then (theoretically) put away in their rooms.

 

 

 

Again, this is actually an idea I use at my house. Only my version doesn't look so great.

Yeah. Not so much with the putting away....

Okay, one more. Pinterest organized bathroom:

Now my kids' bathroom:

Oh well. At least we can find stuff, right?

Sometimes....

images from http://www.repinly.com/

When they get too quiet...

The other day I was working on the computer and didn't notice that the twins had gotten a little TOO quiet.

Well, maybe I did notice. I just chose to think, "Oh yay! They're letting me accomplish something for once!"

I know. Total wishful thinking.

I chose to ignore that little warning bell in my head saying: Quiet Twins=Twins doing BAD things!!

This took me over an hour to clean up. Approximately three times the amount of uninterrupted time I'd spent at the computer.

I guess you always gotta pay....

What I found under my couch

No there's no photograph. I have to maintain SOME dignity here.

As Barney says, you have to Use Your Imagination.

So last night I saw a Care Bears video tape case peeking out from under the couch and I pulled it out.

(Yes. We still use videotapes. I'm an OLD mommy, remember?)

(yuck-face image from http://winsonyeung.com)

The case was covered in some kind of clear sticky ooze I could not identify, and it dripped slowly but continuously as I lifted it up.

I made a face and sighed. Further investigation was needed here. As much as I hated to do it....

I moved the couch to look at the floor beneath.

I found a large puddle of the same unidentified icky mess with several plastic toys dotting it like islands.

Also I found some dirt. And some hairballs. And dried-up spill of what appeared to be pink nail polish

I wiped up everything but the nail polish, which will require some kind of major solvent to remove, unfortunately.

Then I tried to figure out what the wet spill was, examining it closely. The puddle was clear and sticky, thicker in the middle than it was on the ends as if it were in the process of congealing, and it smelled strangely fruity. I still had no idea what it was.

Searching for further clues, I tried to figure out where it had come from. There were no open containers around, and no telltale "spill-proof" (HA!) cup near the spill. I took the couch apart to make sure there wasn't any sort of dripping bottle hidden under the cushions. I simply could not find the source of the spill either.

I shrugged and gave up, deciding to go ahead and wash the couch cover while I had it all taken apart. As I usually do, I put a quilt over the couch to protect it while the slipcover was in the washing machine.

(I don't really have to say WHY the couch needs protection, do I?)

When GG saw the un-slipcovered couch, she said, "Who threw up?" That's usually why the cover gets washed.

Then my husband told me what had happened while I'd been gone that evening. Apparently ET had left a large bottle of flavored water uncapped near the twins.

I said, "AHA! The souce of the Weird Unidentified Spill is revealed!"

Let's do the math on that shall we?

   1 open container of clear sticky beverage
+ 2 crazy toddlers
+ time to fester under the couch
= ONE BIG  NASTY MESS!!!

Mystery solved.

(image from http://www.walmart.com)

After this ET came downstairs and saw the quilt-shrouded couch.

"Who barfed?" she said.

At least they're consisitent.

Barf Car

A few weeks ago my van began to take on an unpleasant odor.


Perhaps you can guess, from the title of this blog entry, the precise nature of said stinkiness.



(image from http://www.cartoonstock.com)

The thing was, no one had been sick in the car recently, so I couldn’t figure out where the smell was coming from.

I thought it might be Eau de Lost Sippy Cup. (You know, like the ones we’ve found under the couch with solidified milk offensively curdled inside them. Ewwww…)

But I couldn’t find anything under the seats, and all of the twins’ cups were accounted for. I couldn’t really find the precise location of the smell either; although it was definitely in the general area of the twins’ carseats.

There was nothing to do but clean the whole car.

Now, you may remember I had the car “detailed” after an accident not too long ago, resulting in the cleanest van ever known. (Read that story here, if you’re interested.)

So I didn’t expect the mess under the seats could have gotten too bad. I was wrong.

I spent a couple of hours giving the van an intense cleaning. I took absolutely everything out of the car. I removed the carseat covers and washed them in the washing machine. I threw away all the trash that had been collecting under the seats. I vacuumed AND shampooed the carpets and seats. Then I left the whole thing open to air out inside the garage for 24 hours.

I’m telling you, this was a THOROUGH cleaning.

The next day we all got inside the newly clean van. Everyone exclaimed over how nice it looked. I congratulated myself on a job well done. We drove for a few minutes in silence.

Then ET remarked, “It still smells like barf in here.”

And the annoying thing is, she was right!

So I resorted to spraying air freshener every time we got in the car instead, drowning the bad smell in a sea of floral friendliness.

Maybe I should have just STARTED with that, and saved myself a lot of trouble.