Wet Flarp

Yesterday was "one of those days." You know the ones. Where Murphy's Andrea's Law is in full swing? I was in "one of those moods" to begin with, so I guess I never really had a chance anyway.

It started like a normal Sunday. Cinnamon rolls. Getting ready. Getting in hubby's truck not sure what we are going to do, but determined we're going to spend time together since I've barely seen him all week. We bounced around the hay fields helping (by helping I mean he worked and I sat in the truck trying not to complain about the heat he was working in) Spaps fix tractors, move tractors, etc.

We finally got home and decided it would be a good time to finish putting Chloe's swingset together. Nevermind it was 3pm and that heat I was *not* complaining about earlier had increased greatly. The sun beat down. The directions were more confusing than ever, and the playset that looked so great when I ordered it wasn't living up to my expectations at all.

We finished it, a few curse words, sweaty t-shirts, and laughs later. I couldn't wait to get inside and get out of the heat. We got in just in time for me to watch a movie I've been missing all week. I plopped down on the couch and began cooling off.

"When's dinner?" Hubby asked a little too soon. I hoisted myself off the couch and got the chicken started. I served my family dinner, then finished watching my movie. I took my dishes in the kitchen and got all the pans rinsed. I played outside with Chloe. Then I came in, ready to relax.

"I want some dessert!" Chloe demanded.

"Me too. Ice cream, please," Hubby asked.

And I snapped.

"LOOK AT THIS LIVING ROOM!" I raised my voice. "If you two picked up everything in here that is yours I wouldn't have a thing to pick up tonight," I tried making my point, but no one really seemed too worried about it. "I'm not getting anything for anyone until everyone has picked up after themselves," I concluded.

And they picked up.

Amid the frantic pick-up, Chloe gathered all her dirty clothes and took them to the laundry room.

"Mom, I put my clothes in the washer," she told me. "Dat way all you have to do is pour the soap in the morning," she said smiling.

"Thank you," I replied sweetly.

I served them ice cream and we all went to bed.

This morning I got up, and was grateful that she had done the leg-work of her own laundry. I turned on the washer and went about my other business. I came down a little later to switch loads and I saw it.

The lid to her Flarp.

Remember Gak? Same thing. It's sticky, slimy, putty-type goo. I had taken it away from her because it was too messy, but somehow it got in with her dirty clothes, I guess.

And I washed it.

Every single item of summer clothing she owns has some remnant of pink goo on it.

I tried heat.

I tried ice.

I tried scraping.

I spent two hours picking it off, tiny piece by tiny piece.

To no avail.

I'm hoping that if the clothes sit out a while the Flarp will dry up and I can pick it off, but that's my last resort. Guess that's what I get for trying to do anything the easy way =/