Miracle In a Spray Bottle

oxi cleanIt’s called Oxi Clean Max Force and it is a miracle worker.  I kid you not.  This stuff is the shit.  If you do not own a bottle of this, I suggest you stop what you are doing this very minute and get your butt down to the Stop & Shop and purchase yourself one.  You will not be disappointed.

I am, by nature, a stain maker.  I even have a bad habit of staining DH’s clothes.  And I don’t even wear his clothes.  That is as much of a mystery as this cleaner is.  How his clothes happen to appear dirtier after a wash.  I don’t know what they put in this stuff, but it is truly amaze-balls.  A-MAZE-BALLS.  I don’t care if it causes some weird neurological twitch that will appear in 20 years.  Because I am not stopping.  It’s like a drug and I am an addict.

I have a confession.  I have been using it for some time.  My mother suggested it when I was complaining to her about stains and my inability to remove them.  But the enormity of its power didn’t quite hit me until yesterday when it took a ridiculously hideous stain out of a fairly new shirt.  A stain that has been washed in hot water at least twice and sealed even further by an iron set on the hottest, steamiest setting.

I am not lying when I tell you that it gets stains out that have been there for years.  YEARS!  When I realized this, I scoured every closet and drawer in my house.  I got together crap that hasn’t been worn in ages because of stains.  And let me tell you, there was quite the pile.  This stuff took out all of it.  All Of it!  Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.  If it doesn’t work, I’ll eat my stainless shirt.

Manual Labor was Invented by the Devil

I absolutely abhor manual labor.  I know I speak for many.  I can almost hear the collective headshakes.  Honestly, if it’s cleaning day and Satan calls with an opportunity to sit in hell for all of eternity instead, I’d take it.  Anything to get out of housework.  When my DH wants me to help him rake the yard, I feign The Black Plague just to get out of it.

Laundry.  There are 3 people living in this house.  There should be no more than MAYBE a load a day and that is still too much.  But no, it’s more like 3-4 loads PER DAY!  I do believe I have one of those magic laundry baskets because as soon as I empty it, it fills up within seconds.  No I mean it…literally seconds.  Like I said, 3 humans live in this house.  THREE.  I know, I don’t get it either.

And my all time fave — Grocery shopping.  I wake up with stomach cramps and the sweats on grocery day.  I’m sorry, unless you go to the store at midnight, it seems that every day is senior day.  I love the seniors, I will be one myself sooner than I care to speak about, but come on.  I don’t mind walking slowly when I’m sauntering down the beach with a margarita.  How about when the little buggers stop in the middle of the isle to talk to their old cronies about which fiber supplement they use?  It took all the energy I had just to get there…please move along people.

My motto:  Life is short, why do anything when it will still be there tomorrow?  Well, it’s not tomorrow yet.  This is what was on my Christmas list:  a maid, a cook (oh right, I really don’t like cooking either), and/or a laundress.  I didn’t get any of the above.  And for the record, I never even asked for a magic laundry basket.  Thanks a lot Santa.