I have had some complaints from my avid readers about my slow posting habits. So for my fans, I have posted the following picture of the washing machine to explain what I've been doing when I'm not posting:
Yeah, that's our bedspread. Which I realized didn't fit in the washer AFTER I already got liquid Tide and warm water all over it. So I insisted in using most of my upper body strength (not impressive) to stuff it in anyway (not intelligent). And let me tell you, there was no turning back.
I would love to tell you this story ends happily and that we have a nice new clean bedspread on our bed. That is not how this wretched story ends. And now I get to go shopping for a new bedspread.
*Whoops*
Why am I not embarrassed to tell this story, you ask? I am justifying this from all angles in my head that somehow this was not my fault. Who's fault? Jared's, perhaps. My mother's, more than likely. Laundry life lesson should have occured around age 15, not 24. Most of all, I'd like to blame President Bush (no explanation necessary).
Maybe if I spent more time blogging, I would keep myself out of trouble. And really I would love to but....well, I have some important shopping to do. (:
What's your "whoops" moment?
