A Canadian gal living in Britain with 3 men and a dog. Wine helps.

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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Ever wish you could just turn back time, if only by 30 seconds?

Bleach is a very bad word when it comes to my vocabulary. I usually prefer to do all my own laundry because if something goes wrong, I only have myself to blame. My mother used to do all my laundry, as well as my four siblings, my father's and her own. That is a lot of laundry to get through and she was a good woman to do it all, without complaint. In later years, I noticed from time to time that the odd piece of clothing would come back with a bleach mark on it. Normally something I adored. I know that Stacy has had this problem from time to time as well. Sometimes when my husband, who always seems to have the washer on, kindly washes my clothes, the delicate white laundry has come back grey. Thus, I prefer to do at least my delicates myself.

When someone is good enough to do your laundry for you, and you are lazy enough to let them, damaged clothing is a risk you have to be willing to take. More times then not with mom (and Andy), the clothes would be fine, but for about the past 10 years or so, I'd just gotten into the habit of doing my own. And I never use bleach - at least in my laundry. I do own a bottle, as sometimes general cleaning agents just don't do the job in the kitchen/bathroom that bleach will do, however if I make the mistake of using bleach, I always wreck whatever I happen to be wearing. You'd think I'd learn by now to change into something old. (Normally I do.) However the other day I took on a task that Andy normally does, and decided to wash down the back patio area where Molly makes her mess. Andy uses a cleaning agent with bleach and I stupidly poured (splashed) it onto the patio, thus splashing it all over my new pants. G-R-E-A-T. If there was ever a moment in time where I wished I could press the rewind button, this was it. Unfortunately there isn't a rewind button for stupid behaviour.

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