[Just A Long Post About Laundry]

UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH.

We need to talk about laundry.

I don’t know about you guys, but laundry is probably going to be the thing that does me in.

Honestly.

It’s not the cooking, which I loathe and yet find myself spending about three hours a day doing.

It’s not the cleaning, which – again – I’m not really a fan of; though being a health and sanitization freak, I see the necessity of. (Still, it would be nice if the second I wipe down a counter, my family could not immediately spill food and walk away…)

The errands. The kids’ sports. The homeschooling. The breastfeeding, largely unsupported.

It’s none of that shit.

It’s the laundry.

I never understood – before having three kids, plus my dad, husband, and myself – just how much laundry a family could produce. Like I kind of understood. When I was little, we had a big basement and the laundry would just pile up higher and higher until my dad or I finally got around to doing it.

But holy shit. Laundry.

LAUNDRY. WOAH.

Every week, the piles get bigger and bigger, and I’m just not sure how to go about doing it. I have a teen, a tween, and a toddler, so naturally all three of the worst laundry-with-kids phases. My kids also play sports too; and my husband and dad… well, men.

I tried one load a day, but that was insufficient for a family of six.

I tried two loads a day; somehow also insufficient.

I tried just continuing the laundry all day, every day. The problem with that was then the folding never got done and we just had piles of clothes waiting to be put away laying around everywhere.

I’ve tried one or two, specific, laundry days a week. But busy lives and a lot of people means that for the days afterwards, there’s still the laundry piled up everywhere waiting to be folded or put away, like with my daily laundry routine. And also, with a family of six, the longer it takes to finish “laundry day,” the more laundry gets added to laundry day.

And you guys get it; it just never gets done.

I’m at the point, now, of thinking: ‘let’s just burn all of our clothes once they start to smell.’ We can start fresh with the latest Target wardrobe du jour. Right? (Honestly, it would probably cost less than the endless amounts of detergent, combined with the water and gas bill from the washer and dryer – essentially – running constantly.)

It’s not just the doing of the laundry, it’s the folding and putting away. We are a family of six, and we live in a small house (duh, California cost of living). So we have to squeeze things in as best we can.

Which basically means we don’t.

There’s also that whole Gain thing.

Do you guys remember a while ago Gain laundry detergent had that Gooder campaign, and I basically lost my mind about it?

I wrote blogs, Tweeted, Facebooked, and even wrote a letter to the president of the company. I just could not handle a marketing campaign that used improper grammar. (Because, at the time, I really was that much of a pretentious grammarian. I know, I know…I hate me too.)

To my surprise, those motherfuckers over at Gain had the BALLS to respond to me, and their response was even more appalling than the campaign: they said THAT THEIR GOODER CAMPAIGN WAS GOODEST ENOUGH FOR THEM. (Or something along those lines.)

Like they not only defended it, they went so far as to bate me further. I. Was. Livid.

So I stopped using Gain for quite some time, which I’m sure was a real crisis to them. I mean I do a lot of laundry, so much so that I was once asked for identification because my local CVS security team identified through camera and cash register surveillance footage that I was purchasing Tide pods at an “alarming frequency and quantity” (their words); still, I’m fairly certain my lone boycott of Gain and their bullshit GOODER campaign had absolutely no impact on the company whatsoever.

But it was the point, you know?

So flash forward to last summer when we went on a little mini vacation and had to buy one of those one time use packs of laundry detergent – because, duh, I have a huge family and even vacations include Mom doing laundry. The only option was Gain, so I begrudgingly bought it…

…WELL… have you guys smelled that shit lately? They were right: IT. IS. GOODER. It was like someone had sewn roses into my clothes when I washed them with Gain. Like all of the good smells in the universe have been infused into a tiny pod, that they don’t even call a pod – they call it a fling. Some romantic shit you had the summer between your junior and senior years of college is now working overtime to get the scent and stain of your daily filth out of your Cotton On underpants. Like heaven is real, and it’s the smell and feel of my freshly laundered linens.

So now I feel like a hypocrite because I took Gain to task during that whole Gooder campaign thing, now I literally stand at the washing machine with my nose in the Gain Fling container like I’m sniffing a fine wine for the first time.

I’ve clearly lost it in the thick of all these socks that need to be folded, and bras that need to be hand washed. I don’t really know where to go from here.

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Conversations With Nick

I feel bad for my husband sometimes. Not only does he have a terribly dysfunctional job situation (works far from home, works too many hours, etc); and has the likes of Hello Kitty Toaster for a family situation, but he’s also married to me. I can be one of the most foul-mouthed, hard-to-tolerate women on the planet sometimes. I’m blunt. I’m crude. I was raised by a man, so every other sentence out of my mouth is “suck my balls.” And while I talk about balls and drop the f-bomb constantly, I’m horrified by things like leaving the toilet seat up, belching in my face, and hogging down our dinner like it’s feeding time at the barnyard. I’m a tough nut to crack at times.

My husband and I also have very little in common. I hate the film industry. He works in the film industry. He is an avid Laker fan. I love the Bulls and  punch things when I see Kobe come on TV. Another thing we don’t really have in common is a sense of humor. My husband has none and I am constantly making jokes about everything going on around us.

Today there were a few times when Nick was being good old, serious Nick, and I was just being my typical crude and poking fun at everything-self. I like to call them Conversations With Nick.

Conversations With Nick, Episode 1: Do I Look Pretty?

B(itch): “I don’t even know why I get dressed or put on makeup anymore.”

Nick: “Neither do I. You look the same no matter what.”

B(itch): [insert glare]

Nick: “What?”

B(itch): “Are you kidding me?”

Nick: “What?”

B(itch): “When was the last time you thought about complimenting me?”

Nick: “Our wedding.”

B(itch): “One: one compliment every so many years is insufficient. Two: ‘you look bone-able’ is not a compliment.”

Conversations With Nick, Episode 2: Are You Putting Your Penis in My Donut?

B(itch): “Hahah! That donut picture I showed you earlier made you want donuts and now everyone on Facebook thinks you’re going to stick your penis in it.”

Nick: “Heather… seriously…”

B(itch): “What, do you want to stick your dick in a donut tomorrow morning? Was that your plan?”

Nick: “No that wasn’t my fucking plan, Jesus!”

B(itch): “Are you sure?”

Nick: “Pretty sure. I’m going to bed.”

B(itch): “It’s 8:15!!! Stay here, I have to come up with a snappy comeback!”

Nick: “You do that. I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow for donuts that I will not be sticking my dick in.”

Conversations With Nick, Episode 3: Peeing Policy

B(itch): [walking out of the bathroom] “I just realized we never got into that whole ‘pee with the door open’ thing people do.”

Nick: “I didn’t know people peed with the door open.”

B(itch): “Yeah, I’ve seen people do it in movies and shit.”

Nick: “So are you saying because you’ve seen people pee with the door open in movies ‘and shit’ that you want to start peeing with the door open?”

B(itch): “No.”

Nick: “Are you saying you want me to pee with the door open?”

B(itch): “No, I’m just saying we never got into that.”

Nick: “Okay, whatever.”

……….

Nick: “So, just to be clear, do you want me to start leaving the door open when I pee?”

B(itch): “No, my God what are you thinking!!”

Conversations With Nick, Episode 4: Oh, you just want to schtick her with your donut dick.

B(itch): “I think Zoey Deschanel has had some major plastic surgery.”

Nick: “I don’t think so.”

B(itch): “Look – in this movie [watching All the Real Girls] she looks totally different than she does now.”

Nick: “She looks the same.”

B(itch): “No way!! She doesn’t have that stupid fucking puckered lip bull shit that makes me want to rip her face off. And she clearly has had some kind of Botox shit put around the top of her face so she doesn’t look like such a meth addict.”

Nick: “I think you have issues with Zooey Deschanel, not whether or not she’s had plastic surgery.”

B(itch): “Oh, you just want to schtick her with your donut dick. I bet you’d tell her she looked nice more often than once every few years.”

Nick: “What in the hell are you talking about? I am not sticking my penis in that donut! I’m going to bed.”

B(itch): “You said that over an hour ago. You can’t resist my foulness.”

I know … I know what you all are thinking: poor Nick. It’s hard to be married to a foul-mouthed skank such as myself.