I wonder how many people started their blog while waiting on 1/3 of a bar of Fels-Naptha to melt in a stockpot...
I'm going to go with probably zero...but I sincerely hope I'm wrong. I went to Rural King Friday and they had 5 gallon buckets and lids on sale for $1.99, and anything you could stuff in the bucket was 10% off. And as luck would have it, everything to make laundry detergent was on sale as well. (I get REALLY excited about the Rural King.)
So as we headed home in a downpour...I said, "I should've grabbed another 5 gallon bucket so I could make mom some laundry soap." Yeah, right. Good one.
So after we got home and let the turkeys out to run, I texted my mom and said that the Rural King has 5 gallon buckets on sale and I am making laundry soap this weekend, (I'm so cool) and if she brought me a bucket I would make her some. I got this back...(read this with full contempt)..."You make your own laundry soap?" Feel free to add a snort there. I did.
So after 24 hours of silence, I called my mom. I called her back quickly as we had bigger issues than working out our homemade-laundry-soap-issues, because of our neighbor. (That's a WHOLE other post...) I think she was relieved I couldn't ask about to her aversion to homemade laundry soap because of the neighbor bulldozing about 400 trees and really I just called to make sure if needed she could bail me out of jail.
Eventually, I called her back and asked if she had thought anymore about wanting some laundry soap and I got silence. "Uh, I, uh, don't know if I should because you know, your dad, he, uhh, has sensitive skin, and uh..." First, my dad doesn't have sensitive skin. Second, what in the hell does she think I am going to do? Put battery acid in her laundry soap? If I did, it would just dissolve her clothes in her washer and not harm my dad's baby-soft skin. Duh, mom.
Anyways, so this morning I made laundry soap in a 5 gallon Rural King bucket, because I'm high class like that. And while I was waiting on the Fels-Naptha to melt, I started this blog. Like most things I start, out of boredom and impatience. So welcome to my crazy life. Take of your shoes (or don't, my 200 pound dog doesn't clean his feet off before he comes in) and relish the fact that you are probably normal and don't run inner monologues about what could possibly be your mothers aversion to homemade laundry detergent.