I never used to buy into Feng Shui, you guys. I’m just not a very superstitious person by nature. I don’t wish on stars. I don’t read my horoscope. I walk under ladders, let black cats cross my path, and I spill salt all.the.time and never even think to throw a pinch over my shoulder.
But recently I’ve become a big believer in Feng Shui. For those of you reading my blog that
live in Kentucky don’t know what Feng Shui is, allow me to illuminate you: Feng Shui is an ancient Chinese system of aesthetics believed to use the laws of both Heaven and Earth to help one improve life by receiving positive energy. Basically, Feng Shui is a system used to rearrange furniture, primarily by pretentious Westerners with too much money and time on their hands.
Which hardly describes me. (Because, Kentucky! Ya’ll.)
My interior design strategies mostly consist of, “From which fabric will I most easily be able to remove baby shit stains?” and “What furniture arrangement will assist in the successful evasion of a trip to the ER now that Violet’s favorite past-time includes:
1. Spin in circles, many, many times
2. Close eyes
3. Run like your being chased by Christopher Walken from the Weapon of Choice video* until you hit something hard with your face”
Top that off with the fact that we currently live in a somewhat small apartment, and, of course, we do not have a lot of options in terms of the décor.
Little did I know that our lack of consideration for furniture placement would eventually come back to bitch slap us in the face. Stay with me here, guys.
In our family we split up the laundry duties** so that no one ever gets stuck doing 30 loads of laundry without any help. Dan separates, washes, dries, and brings upstairs, I iron, fold, and put away, and Violet pretty much just plays with the hangers.
Not to sound all unappreciative, or anything, but laundry? Not Dan’s strong suit. You see, Dan believes in efficiency. And to get laundry done efficiently (read: fast) you have to put the drier on the super hot setting. So, needless to say, the first time I wear my pants after they’ve been washed and dried by Dan Davis, I mostly look like I painted on some high water pants, because, Holy Camel Toe Batman! they are about two sizes too small.
Also things that make laundry go faster? Neglecting to sort the clothes. Whites? Darks? Dan Davis cares not about small matters such as these. EFFICIENCY! CRAM THE WASHING MACHINE WITH LAUNDRY LIKE IT’S A PIE EATING CONTEST AND THE CLOTHES ARE THE PIE AND THE WASHING MACHINE IS YOUR MOUTH!! Wash, dry, repeat.
Although his technique is annoying, it’s something I’ve learned to live with. Much as Dan has learned to live with the fact that my face turns inside out when the shirts in our closet aren’t sorted by sleeve length and collar type. See? We all have our little quirks!
I didn’t really think a lot about it the other day when Dan took the laundry baskets from both Violet’s room and our room down to the basement to man handle the washing machine into taking on more than it’s fair share. While Dan may march to his own drum in terms of getting the laundry done, he is considerate when it comes to using scented detergent and fabric softener. (It’s important!) Normally when there is a load of laundry in the dryer, we can smell the scented fabric softener from the exhaust billowing up into the house, particularly when we have our windows open. I love the smell! So clean and fresh, just wafting into the house on our weekends at home. It almost makes me not mind folding and putting away the loads of laundry.
Naturally, once the laundry was going for the weekend, I was a little concerned when the only smell wafting up from the exhaust was…shit. It was…rather confusing.
I asked Dan if he smelled something funny, and he agreed: yep, yep, shit indeed. So he went into Violet’s room and decided that the Diaper Genie was the culprit. He emptied it, and we went about our business…all the while, the shit smell kept getting…well…shittier.
I sent Dan downstairs…to see if the dogs had shit in the basement?? It would be weird…however it was really the only thing I could think of at that point. Nothing could have prepared us for what happened next.
I’m sure many mommies out there have accidentally washed a lot of things. Hell, crayons, chapstick and sharpies are all on my “whoops, should have checked the pockets!” list. And that was before Violet was even a dream in my head. I can even imagine what it must be like for those mommies that accidentally wash a diaper…cotton all over everything ugh…what a mess. But Dan Davis went ahead and took it a step further…because he’s competitive, you see, and so he washed AND DRIED A SHITTY DIAPER.
You can imagine my horror. I went through all of the classic stages:
1. Denial: No way…this can not be shit in the drier. It’s just not possible…who shits in a drier?
2. Anger: A freaking shitty diaper?! This is your fault for never sorting the laundry!!!!!!!
3. Bargaining: Okay, okay, you’re right. It could have been either of us that tossed the diaper into the laundry hamper. Who’s idea was it to put the hamper RIGHT NEXT to the Diaper Genie? I know, I know…you’re right, now is no time for the blame game. How bout this: how bout I’ll rewash all of the laundry if you just clean out the drier…I’ll throw in a back rub if you can do it without puking.
4. Depression: Okay dude…we need to just throw the drier away. There’s no coming back from this.
5. Acceptance: We’re really both to blame for this. How dare we tempt fate by not taking into consideration the placement of the clothes hamper in the nursery? Of course this would happen!! The Feng Shui Gods are punishing us!
And that’s why it’s always important to consider Feng Shui, you guys. Because when you put the baby’s hamper right next to the Diaper Genie? One of you is bound to toss a dirty diaper in the hamper in a sleep deprived stupor under the influence of the noxious poop fumes. Frankly…I’m surprized it took 15 months for it to happen to us.
*If you can watch this whole video without your butthole puckering, you deserve some kind of an award.
**I laugh in my head every time someone says “duties.” Because, of course, I’m totally thinking, “doodies.”