I am terrible at laundry. I mean, I know enough to separate clothes by color, because if I washed all whites with that lone red sock, I would just be way too cliche to even write about. And I've actually never done that. Surprisingly.
No, I am terrible at remembering that I am doing laundry. I don't know how many times Mike has walked past the washing machine and asked if I meant to leave the lid open. For two hours.
My parents' old washer let you leave the lid open and it would begin the cycle with no problems. I always thought that it was fun to watch as different items of clothes would get slowly sucked underwater, and I would sometimes save small things like socks so that I could add them one by one and watch them slowly drown.
That's normal, right?
But today, I remembered to add soap and close the washer lid. I remembered to move the clean clothes to the dryer. I remembered to add a dryer sheet, and I remembered to turn on the machine.
But apparently, I did not remember to check pockets.
Not only did I wash my super sweet pedometer - which is now broken and I will never again know how many steps I took in a given day - but I washed an unused feminine product. The results were... so weird.
Great.
And then, I started seeing this weird, clear... goo all over the clothes. I don't know what else to call it. It was sort of like a bunch of mini insect eggs or something, but that thought caused me to dry-heave, so I returned to square one in my investigation.
Nice camera skillz, right?
It wasn't until I found the pink wrapper that I figured it out: a pantiliner. Wonderful.
From then on, it was all about finding the pad itself. I totally forgot what brand this is, but they should use a similar tactic in their advertising campaigns. "Feminine pads! They soak up all of the water in your washing machine! They hold four gallons of liquid!"
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