Do you know what’s worse than a dirty diaper? A dirty diaper (pull-up) that ends up in the laundry. I’m not pointing fingers, but there are two adults that live in this house and I did not throw it down the laundry chute. It was still tangled in my daughter’s tiny pants. Someone is clearly trying to break a world record and undress the kids as fast as they can. Taking one article of clothing off at a time is for chumps.
Unfortunately, I didn’t notice the diaper until after I did a load of laundry. I pulled out the clothes to separate what needs to line dry. (by that I mean lay on a clothing rack. I won’t ever be hanging my granny panties outside for the world to see. Besides, I prefer my clothes smell like a cuddly talking bear rather than a tree.)
Now, because I have this damn energy efficient washer the shirts end up in giant knots. As I yanked on a sleeve, tiny jelly-like pieces rained down on me. Pieces that at one point absorbed urine were sprinkled in my hair like Glitter. I looked like Ke$ha, but without the track marks. Isn’t being a mother glamorous? So, I got to clean the washing machine AND wash the clothes all over again. Phew. I was so worried I wouldn’t have anything else to do today.