I hate doing laundry. I’m actually really bad at it (read: indifferent) – and tend to hold off until that desperate moment between wearing dirty clothing and going commando at church. But no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I have to do it eventually, and I know it’s time when:

• the dirty laundry pile has started moving itself toward the laundry room.

• my daughter is wearing a pillowcase dress, that is actually more pillowcase than dress (I should probably cut out the arm holes at some point).

• everything is failing the sniff test.

• the underwear I fashioned out of saran wrap isn’t really cutting it. Neither is the wax paper thong.

• the hamper resembles a dirty Mount Everest.

• my husband says he’s tired of wearing his boxers with a belt in public (I’m pretty sure no one could tell those #1 dad “shorts” were actually boxers.)

• I’m praying I don’t get into a car accident, not because I don’t want to die, but because I don’t want the paramedic to see the state of my granny panties. (Then again, I fear this one even when the laundry is done.)

• I’m using my Marc Jacobs perfume to Febreze my outfit.

• we’re stuck using the flailing, air-dry method to dry ourselves off after a shower.

• my three year old daughter offers to do it. For real.

Actually, that last one tells me that I held out just long enough for someone to offer to do it. If only she had the manual dexterity to hold an iron.

I am terrible for forgetting to do quick pocket checks when I do laundry. I always forget, with sometimes disastrous results – I’ve trashed several USB keys, an iPod Shuffle and about a thousand lipsticks. You’d think that after twenty-five years of laundering clothes I’d get in to the habit of checking pockets, but I hardly ever do. I’ve ruined entire loads simply by drying them with a royal blue crayon; once, I nearly had a heart attack after a gigantic black spider fell out of a t-shirt and landed on my foot.

It was a fake spider, of course – a very, very realistic fake that had come, no doubt, from the depths of one of my son’s pockets. I realized that after I’d nearly broken my pelvis trying to get the (very, very realistic-looking) fake spider off of me.

Imagine, though, emptying your washing machine and discovering a snake mixed in among the jeans. Wendy Foley, a mother of two from England, was doing just that when she realized there was a huge snake inside the machine – and it wasn’t a toy.

“I don’t know if it had been through the complete cycle or not. I screamed and screamed – I was terrified,” she recalled.

She ran outside and flagged someone down, who told her he thought it was a boa constrictor. Freaked, Wendy called the police, who chewed her out for making a phony call. The RSPCA helpfully informed her they couldn’t send anyone to her house until the following day, so she and her two sons (aged 18 and 21) wound up spending the night with what turned out to be a five-foot corn snake in their laundry room.

“I kept thinking that it would get out and also that there could be more than one in the house. I hate snakes,” said Wendy.

I’m not surprised that the police department thought she was putting them on – years ago, when my cat got stuck about 45 feet up a huge tree, I was laughed off of the phone by the fire department. However, I can’t believe that the RSPCA didn’t try to collect the snake sooner! I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep soundly knowing there was a snake curled up somewhere in my house…could you?

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It dawned on me this weekend, after I discovered my son hunched in a corner of the dining room working on a mouthful of *MY* Tootsie Rolls: I am running out of hiding spots in my own home.

My son is very sneaky and his sister has hawk’s eyes; together, they are a formidable team. My husband and I got in to the habit of keeping our medications under lock and key after our son, then three, ate his way through half a bottle of children’s vitamins. I stash stuff all over the house, from candy and chocolate to small change and Christmas gifts, and I’ve always prided myself on picking good hiding spots – until now, anyway.

When I first saw this next item I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t until I scrolled down and read the part about ‘even the most hardened burgler (or most curious snoop) skidding (pun most definitely intended) to a screeching halt’ upon seeing them that I realized The Brief Safe is a very real item, indeed.

These fake dirty underwear are specially designed with a secret 4″ x 10″ pocket – big enough to hide cash, jewelry, credit cards and other small valuables (Smarties, Cadbury eggs, Tootsie Rolls) – and come complete with “special markings on the lower rear portion.”

This? Is disgustingly brilliant. If it means my Tootsie Rolls remain untouched, I’m all for it. And that includes, oh yes it does, resorting to skid-marked decoy underwear.

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Babies are pretty lazy. I mean: yes, they are growing and discovering and learning and the like, and they are kind of cute if you’re in to that kind of thing (I am), but overall, what else do they actually do besides drink, poop, scream, and sleep all while someone else takes care of all the details? That right there sounds like a rock star lifestyle to me.

In fact, that IS a rock star lifestyle. So hey, babies, what gives? Get to work!

Behold the baby mop!

Oh man, what I would have given to have had a Baby Mop back when my kid was born. I wonder if there is a tub attachment?

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There’s an infomercial that’s currently making its way around the Internet – one that claims a product called The Better Marriage Blanket can solve “the problem in the marriage bed that nobody likes to talk about”.

I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that it’s probably not the problem you’re thinking it might be.

Your husband’s noxious gas is fixin’ to ruin your marriage, but never fear! The Better Marriage Blanket is here to save the day…and your marriage!

It looks like a regular (read: tacky) comforter on the outside, but it’s one tough mutha blanket on the inside, with a layer of carbon fabric cut from the same cloth the military uses to protect against chemical weapons. Ain’t no stink gonna tread on the sanctity of marriage – this blanket eats chili farts for breakfast, bitches.

The Better Marriage Blanket an ACTUAL PRODUCT, people. This thing is the real deal, and you know there are people out there who are reading this going, FINALLY (I have to admit, while I laughed at the commercial, there was a little voice in the back of my head that piped up and said, Oooh, you gotta buy that, girl!).

For just $29.95 you too can be on your way to a stink-free marital bed! It comes in all sizes, in white or beige. But for Chrissake, do NOT, as the commercial suggests, give this as a wedding or anniversary gift…unless it’s to your own husband. Or your ex, on his wedding day.

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Whenever I’m at the grocery store and I pick a cart that has someone’s discarded shopping list still in it, I always take a look at it. Because I’m nosy like that – I’m always curious about what other people are buying for their families.

This list, apparently found in a Seattle parking lot, reads like a fairly normal shopping list at first: a reminder to gas up the Buick (complete with a smiley face), followed by a stop at Walgreen’s for shampoo, toilet paper, birthday cards and some Prep H for Walter (don’t worry, Walter – it happens to the best of us, buddy).

Warning – graphic content after the jump!

And then, a list of items needed from Stan’s – complete with smiley faces, multiple exclamation points and rather, uh, specific items for Walter.

The smiley face beside Cucumber (XL) is a nice touch.

I think it’s safe to say that this goes down in history as one of the best grocery lists ever written.

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Because if you haven’t sufficiently  infantilized your household decor with the Lego kitchen counter, you could always take things a step further and install a gummi bear chandelier.

No, wait, sorry: CANDelier.

Get it?

Ha ha ha ha *sugar crash*

It’s actually kind of pretty. But my kid would – no exaggeration – stack furniture to get at the bears, and there would be much toppling of chairs and crashing of light fixtures and it would all end in tears, so.

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Martha, Martha, Martha… first she came out with the magazine that took the simple and made it complicated in the most beautiful way possible. Then she hosted a television show that animated the unattainable lifestyle from her magazine for those too lazy to read about it. Personally her stuff made me feel worse about myself and my lack of decorating and cooking skills.

Then Martha Stewart went to jail and I grew to like her. Amazing how a trip to the big house made her more likeable and easier to relate to … considering I’ve never been to prison (yet).

So what’s next? Apparently, Martha is pitching a new reality show where she cleans up decorating mistakes gone bad and fixes party planning mistakes from hell for regular folks. Yo Martha, sign me up!

I firmly believe if anyone can make diamonds out of dung, it’s going to be Martha Stewart.

Who else can emerge from jail and resurrect a career in the crapper without a smudge on her pastel hues or a ruffle on her twin set and teach the world how to make panty bouquets? Martha, Martha, Martha.

I’d totally let Martha into my home to fix my decorating blunders. Though I’m not sure if my decorating can even be termed ‘decorating’ though it definitely can be coined as a ‘blunder’. And as for letting her take over party planning? Anyone who knows me also knows I get so worked up just planning a children’s birthday party that I’ve managed to find an excuse for the past four years running to not host one for my daughter (who really does deserve a birthday party… I am a bad, bad mom.)

So would you let Martha come in and fix your home disasters and soiree suckages? I need to follow this story and find out what network picks up her pitch because this has Bad Mom Intervention written all over it.

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Oh my god, you guys! Martha Stewart is reading our blog! I mean, she must be. How else do you explain demonstrating how to make a panty bouquet? That's totally how we were going to mock her flower-arranging demonstrations. She must have spies, and they must be keeping an eye on our Bad Housekeeping (formerly Martha Stewart Went To Jail, You Guys: DON'T LISTEN TO HER) category.

Seriously, Martha? Panty bouquets? What's next, dildo topiary?

Does your child keep seemingly worthless stuff around and treat it like treasure? My daughter does. She has candy wrappers from last Valentine's Day stuffed in her purse. And as a somewhat-defeated clean freak trying to hang onto my last shred of tidiness dignity, it has made me darn near batty knowing she has these in her possession.

The one time I actually attempted to clean up her precious treasures, I was chastised and beaten with the guilty stick for days. It got to the point where I almost believed that I deserved it.

Anyhow, keeping things for longer than they are meant to be treasured seems to be my daughter's forte, but this woman might have her beat.

Prena Thomas of Lakeland, Florida made a snowball back in 1977 when there was a freak snow fall, put it in her freezer, and never let that frozen sucker melt. She has apparently never had a power outage (don't move to Toronto Prena.)

She still has that snowball lovingly packed in her freezer today. Thirty-three years later. Now that's dedication.

When she described her snowball was like 'a pet' I caught a glimpse of my daughter in this woman and suddenly I no longer cared about the candy wrapper treasures being garbage. I'm maybe a little more worried about her anthropomorphizing those treasures, but really: if she loves it, let her have it.

Respecting other people's treasures is too important a lesson to be lost. Thanks for reminding me, Prena.

source via neatorama