There has been a bit of a crisis in my home tonight and I had nowhere to turn other than this diary to process my thoughts. I find myself in complete shock, disbelief but ultimately, a stronger, better woman having persevered the events that took place.
Deep breaths, Britni.
So, I don't know what happened. I have no proof as to how this tragedy came to be. I, of course, have my suspicions but I don't dare admit them without any hard evidence.
Tonight, as I was catching up on laundry I came upon a stack of clean kitchen-y things to be put away. And to be clear, by "clean" I mean they had clearly been sent through the washer/dryer process and folded and stacked into a pile where they might stay for weeks or months before being put into their special drawer in the kitchen, & hopefully before a pet cat homesteads on them.
I went to put away my favorite, off-white kitchen towel with the vintage blue butterfly print and noticed right away that it was not folded correctly. and... I'm not a bitch about this.. meaning, I don't audibly bitch about this one. If Casey, for example, or whoever, does some laundry I save my critical reviews for the important things like darks/lights, towels/sheets or where to put the dirties so I can spare myself the sniff test as much as possible. I don't waste my time on the smaller things - I just swear a bunch in my head and refold them myself.
So I unfolded the towel, to refold before I tucked it neatly away and to my horror...
DISCOVERED THIS BLATANT VANDALISM:
What. in. the. actual.
What the fucking fuck
COULD HAVE POSSIBLY FUCKING HAPPENED HERE?
There aren't coal mines where we live. Nothing appears to have been aflame. My vehicle oil hath not been changed.
I collected myself and calmly, from several arm lengths away, held the defaced towel before Casey to witness. He appeared to genuinely not know what happened to our beloved tea towel but had a few, less than empathetic comments like:
"well, if it can't be used then you should just hang it on the wall or something."
And I was quite pleased with me come back.. enough so, to go ahead and write this email tonight.
A little flashback: we bought a truck for Casey several years ago that a gal pal and I drove up from Colorado (with 5 horses in tow and whilst I was pregnant). Anyway, it is Casey's very special truck and whenever I drive it I am sure to warm up the glow plugs (for those who don't drive diesel engines, you half turn the key until a super special light turns off on the dash after about 15 seconds of frigid ass Alaskan eternity and only THEN may you start the engine) and let her get good and warm before I ever dare leave the driveway.
So tonight in the kitchen I came at Casey with:
"What's the point if that big stupid truck in the driveway if you can't just fire it up and go? HUH!? If it can't be used with out all these ridiculous steps of super special care, then why don't we just park it, put a cover over it and drive it in a parade once a year!?!? It takes less than 15 seconds to find and use one of our black hand towels for the dirty ops." [insert fucking mic drop emoji]
My point was, use the towel to DRY CLEAN HANDS or to gently dab up a small water mess on a clean surface. The evidence suggests none other than an obvious hate crime!! That stain clearly did not come from clean dish. If it is used properly, and with care there is no problem to speak of. This however, was just downright unacceptable. Even my tiny children would never...
Again, I'm not pointing fingers... I can't for sure say what happened here. I just knew I had to get to work right away.
If anyone really knows me, they know I have no other nemesis like a stain.
I started with a healthy squirt of Spray n' Wash (not sponsored) and let that soak for a bit. Then I hit it hard with some dish soap and scrub brush and really took my anger out on each intentional little hate mark....
I used this vegan dish block and bamboo pot scrubber (sponsored). These got out the bulk of the stains and I could begin to feel the relief washing over me with each pass of the brush.
Then, I broke out my best laundry move. My secret stain removing weapon...
The Magic Fucking Eraser (not sponsored).
A stain is only a stain if it cannot be magically erased.
Dude. Look at my vein. I was workin' it.
Then, one more spritz of Spray n' Wash and I threw her in the washing machine. I'm going to go check on her now... brb..
If you're wondering, I actually just got up and switched the laundry.. I didn't just fake that.
and I have good news. She's going to pull through.
Some of you might be wondering if I am completely oblivious as to what is going on in the world.. I'm not. I just cope with it all by being silly and dramatic about the little things.
Casey and I had a good laugh about it tonight and I wanted to share.
We actually sell those towels, so I could grab another one at work tomorrow, but that just wasn't the point :) I'll never know what happened to that towel but what I do know is that I made that stain my bitch.
Life is kind of like this little tea towel drama. Now get out there and show those stains what you're made of [insert flexing tiny girl bicep emoji].
xoxo - Brit
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