Casey and I thought we would try separating
Our clothes, I mean
With this method, we could bleach our whites
With new clothes from Christmas
We wanted to keep whites white and colors vibrant
It worked at first
Until the day the bleach cap wasn’t fully secured over the spout
And the entirety of the contents exploded upon being accidentally dropped
The pungent liquid saturated most of the clothes on the floor ready for the wash…
I quickly attempted to recover and rinse what I could
Casey said I spread it more and made it worse
He was probably right
There were holes burned in many shirts and jeans
Amebic orange-white stains dressed the best and worst of our wardrobe
We had to evacuate and abandon the apartment for almost an hour
Due to the high caliber fumes
We returned to the scene
The smell still clung to the air
A reminder of the catastrophic event
Most of our clothes were lost to the war
Now referred to as The Bleaching Incident of 2015.
Our boys are old enough now to eat table foods
When we choose their meal
It’s almost as though I am trying the food on
Holding each item up to see if it goes with my outfit
Regardless, I will be wearing it whether it goes or not
Silverware is an obstacle
Only getting in the way of food and their mouth
Tiny hands can make enormous messes
Especially when Henry attempts to take steps
With fists full of smashed strawberry or chunky spaghetti sauce
His first step is confident
The second begins a rapid stumble
Those tiny, generously food-coated hands reach out for me
In slow motion
I know the demise of my outfit is imminent
I go through the five stages of grief:
Denial: Maybe he’ll grab for the paper towel I have strategically placed if this were to happen. He’ll miss my clothes completely!
Anger: Why did I give this messy food to him again?! Tell me Jess, why?!
Bargaining: Kid, if you go for the paper towels, I will give you whatever you want. A unicorn? Candy? You got it! Just go for the paper towel!
Depression: I don’t think I will be able to get this stain out… I only have a couple pairs of pants and shirts left…I am going to be stuck in men’s basketball shorts and oversized t-shirts forever!
Acceptance: I love my kids. Way more than I love my clothes.
I catch him and he manages to cling to practically every article of clothing I have on
The paper towel didn’t catch a single smudge
Casey walks in and laughs at the scene
Bringing me wet wipes and helping me clean Henry up, so I can clean myself
The massacre of strawberry mush and/or pasta sauce
Dissolvable baby snack chunks cemented to my butt that I sat on during play time
All of which have accumulated on my outfit by the end of the day
When the boys are down for the count at 7pm
I remove today’s menu items
Tossing the messy heap over the stairwell to the laundry room below
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.