Sacrifices you will make in marriage…. Having your favorite black hoodie bleached!

OOPS! In the great words of Urkel, “Did I do that?”

Sadly, I can’t stop laughing. Does that make me a bad person? I just sat down to write my official story of the day. And then this happened. And I must admit I’m still giggling as I type this.

Before I share why this is so funny. Because let’s face it most of you are like I don’t get it. Let me start from the beginning. To the good old days when I still had bleach privileges. I use to like bleach but for some reason it doesn’t share the same sentiments with me. If you ask me I would have to say it was out to personally sabotage my domestic skills. And you know what? It won.I lost my privileges because laundry kept coming out like this. Long story short.I don’t keep bleach in the house. Only CLEANING (pay attention to this word. It will be important later) supplies with bleach in it.

So, when my husband came in from work and I noticed this. My first response was, “Oh, god! Please tell me that you seriously did not wear this to work?” I realize he doesn’t showcase his clothing choices for long(thank god for that because I have met homeless people with better style). Luckily, he changes into scrubs. But he was still walking around the hospital. The same one; I might add, that I work at. Looking like this!!!! Co-workers are going to start a gofundme account for him to get me classes on how to do laundry and cook! I mean seriously who does that? Most people would just keep this in “The not to be seen in public. Like ever!” pile. But not my husband! And William I really hope someone calls Stacy London and Clinton Kelly on your ass! Because you are in serious need of a “What not to wear” intervention! I don’t have time to be waking up at the ass crack of Dawn to make sure you don’t go out looking like that. And I know this sounds rich coming from someone that lives in her pajamas. But do I go out in them? Hell No! Leave that shit to the legit/hardcore Walmart shoppers!

When the initial shock of his 1980’s acid wash look passed(and in reality that I could stop laughing and taking pictures of it). I asked how the hell this happened. Because as you know I don’t keep bleach in our laundry room! He tells me how some idiot had bleach in the spray bottle. And he thought it was water. So, he sprayed his hoodie and stuck it in the dryer to “freshen” it up. And might I add that I might not have a college degree(like the hubby) but I do know what the Steam Refresh button on the dryer does. Just saying. Not judging!

So, let me get this straight. Some idiot(meaning me) put bleach in a spray bottle in the cupboard that only holds cleaning supplies? Because it made sense to you that I would keep water in a bottle with the CLEANING(there’s that word again ppl.) supplies. Do we have house plants that I don’t know about? Because after the tragic death of the plant your mom gave me. I only keep plants that need to be dusted. Not watered. So, I know we don’t have a water bottle for that. Or do you think I keep it there so that right before you get home I “mist” myself to make it look like I was hard at work. When you and I both know I was just laying on my ass and reading a book. First of all, I don’t understand why you would assume it was water. And second of all How the fuck did you not notice it wasn’t bleach. After the first spray. You should have smelled that shit! But not my little over achiever husband. Oh, no he just had to get trigger happy and spray the shit out half of it! If there was a smack my head icon I would be hitting that several times right now!

Now, I will admit where I was at fault. I should have wrote the word “bathroom cleaner” on the bottle. I threw the original bottle away. Because when it was empty I forgot I had the Costco Economy “you will never run out of bathroom cleaner”refill bottle in the closet. And that is all I’m fessing up to at this time. If you want any more confessions I want to use my right to have an attorney present.

So, for all you single people this is a daily glimpse into married life. Where you sign a disclosure that you will never hold your spouse responsible for ruining your clothes. Or laughing hysterically at you. That it’s perfectly acceptable for them to take embarassing pictures of you(even ones you don’t know about. Because your back is turned). And there’s nothing you can do about it. Because you signed the contract. The one where said clause was obviously written in invisible ink. They say there’s a sucker born every minute or was it getting married every minute? My poor hubby. If you want to want to join his support group “I married a bitch” they meet at the local bar on Sunday nights.( I forget most ppl. don’t know my sense of humor yet. So, no my husband doesn’t hang out at the bar. But he might start).