i did something that was sorta kinda bad and wrong but i didn't do it intentionally so it's not entirely my fault. okay,well, the initial incident wasn't my fault. it's everything i've done since aforementioned incident that's kinda bad and wrong.

see, what had happened was, i was doing laundry and being as obsessive compulsive as i am, i have lots of laundry baskets [12 to be exact] designated for different loads:
-J's coloreds [something about that doesn't sound right]
-J's whites
-J's underwear
-my coloreds
-my whites [heh heh heh]
-my underwear
-colored towels
-white towels
-colored linens
-white linens
[the other 2 are for baby girls' coloreds and whites]

okay, so, i finished washing all the colored clothes but you know you can only fit so much in the dryer at once so there were a couple of baskets with J's stuff in my goddamn way that still needed to be dried.

there i was minding my own business, bleach in one hand, little measuring cup in the other. i was getting ready to start a load of whites in the wash when all of a sudden i felt a little light-headed. well, i had to catch my balance and something i had to go. and it was the bleach.

right in the basket with all of J's colored clothes.

now, the logical thing to do is grab the bottle before it does too much damage. and that's what i attempted to do but baby girl decided it would be really funny to kick mommy as hard as she can in the ribs causing mommy to drop the bleach onto daddy's clothes AGAIN. only this time gravity was not on my side and every. last. drop. of bleach spilled out onto those clothes.

i thought maybe the few shirts on top would soak up the bleach and the rest of the clothes would be safe. J has a lot of clothes. he wouldn't miss 2 or 3 shirts.

nuh uh.

there wasn't a single piece of clothing in that basket that didn't have some bleach stain on it. all of his favorite tennessee football t-shirts? ruined.
those stupid graphic t-shirts from hollister he loves oh-so-much? ruined.
his cute polo shirts? ruined.
those sweatpants i love to wear cause they're warm and snuggly and i look really cute in 'em? ruined.
EVERYTHING WAS RUINED!

i had to do what anyone in my flip flops would do: get rid of the evidence.
lucky for me, the man was taking a nap cause he's slightly hungover from last night and smoked a bowl so he could sleep it off. so, i was able to sneak around the house for supplies and take everything out to the trash without him noticing.

it's hard to be a ninja when you're pregnant but i did it. even with that stupid dog trying to sabotage me by barking and howling as loud as she could. i deserve a damn award for that shit. i'm 7 months pregnant and that shit was heavy. it's a good thing all of my neighbors have jobs and shit cause i'm pretty sure i looked like i was disposing a dead body since i was wearing rubber gloves and a face mask. but fuck, i wasn't gonna be inhaling no bleach fumes and fucking up my manicure for nobody.

right when i'm about to sit down and take a breathrt, this motherfucker comes downstairs.
"Babe, why does it smell like bleach in here?"
"Huh?" [i'm so trying to think of a good lie]
"It smells like bleach in here."
"Oh, that's just cause i put a load of whites in the wash."
"Damn, did you pour the whole fucking bottle in? you can smell it as soon as you walk downstairs."
[fuck! why'd he have to wake up?!] "Okay, i'll open the window in a sec."
"That's alright I'll do it."
"Damn, I said I'll do it. I'm not retarded. I can open a stupid window." [actually, i can't. that particular window sticks but i remembered i never even started the load of whites because i spilled the stupid bleach all ove his clothes.]
"Whatever She-Ra."
"Douchebag."
"What?"
"Huh? Nothin."

good news: i have plenty of bleach, so he'd never notice i used that one bottle up and i was able to get the whites started and ulimately finished without incident.

bad news: i broke my fucking nail trying to open that damn window.

badder news: as i was folding the laundry, J noticed most of the clothes were mine so i had to lie and say he only gave me a basket of whites and underwear to wash.

baddest news: that sumbitch is walking around this house confused as hell because he doesn't know what happened to his clothes.

i feel really bad about the whole thing but the look on his face is fucking hilarious. he is so confused. he asked me if he'd smoked today and what he did before, during and after he smoked. he's really nervous, too, because he's been biting his nails and pacing around for the past 30 minutes.

i'm debating on whether i should just tell him now or go out and see if i can replace most of the stuff that i had to throw away. i know i won't find any of the tennessee stuff but the hollister, abercrombie, and lacoste stuff is pretty generic so it shouldn't be too difficult to find.
it would be easier to just tell him but he gives me really nasty looks when i do something wrong. he'll give me this big lecture about how i should've told him what i did when it happened instead of trying to cover it up and then i'll cry and make him feel guilty about making me feel bad. but then i'll feel guilty about making him feel guilty and then we'll have really good makeup sex.

hmmm...i don't think i get really good makeup sex if i go buy stuff. and he shops like a girl so it's not like he really needs any new clothes. he has drawers and closets full of clothes.

how bout them gators?

Labels: my love, this is who i am

--i refused to spellcheck @ 3:24 PM | |