Bleach....where is the freaking bleach?!?!?!?!

Today has been interesting and I’ll start off with the most innocent and easy part, because I love you people and I don’t want to throw that kind of thing in your face from the get go.

I had an almost 5 year old, an almost 3 year old and a 15 month old in my living room this afternoon. It blows my mind to think that some families have three kids at these ages. Although they didn’t drive me insane or were too terrible about sharing, they were being relatively good for their ages. It made me anxious, like it always does when a lot of people is in my house. It doesn’t matter if its family friends or strangers, I feel like my house is the size of a teeny broom closet. Although, if I was in someone else’s broom closet, crammed in with like 4 people, I’d be fine. For some weird reason I only get that way when it’s my house. And then the whole three kids under the age of 5 thing, well it made me very antsy and totally reminded me that I am so not capable, mentally that is, to handle more than two kids at once.

Kissing the toes of all you moms of 3+ out there, you are freaking awesome to me!!

Even with that making me all itchy and jumpy, the worst/nastiest/oddest part of my day involved underwear. And not just any underwear, but my brother in law’s dirty underwear.

His washer and dryer (he rents, what can you expect right?) goes crazy from time to time, and it’s easiest to come and do laundry here. Which I don’t mind at all, I did his laundry a lot when he lived with us a few years ago so it’s not new to me. Except I rarely ever came across his underwear. So today, when I started digging through his hamper, it was like the man had a million pairs of dirty underwear. And they were lying just perfectly so that I’d grab one thinking it was the shirt I was looking at but got a surprise instead. Many many times I grabbed them by the crotch.

Now you understand the title of this here post.

I stopped counting at 6 pairs. But I couldn’t stop the weeby jeebies, that’s a higher level of the heeby jeebies just so you know. Even though I’ve washed my hands and sterilized the things I touched many many times, I still feel dirty. Of course it didn’t help when Bo said “Hey Nikki, you have touched my brother’s junk”. If it had been the waist band or even the legs, I would have been fine, but noooooo I had to grab over and over the crotch of his dirty underwear. The guy who is a man whore, who picks up chicks in bars, HIS FREAKING UNDERWEAR PEOPLE.

Now darling, if you are reading this, if this isn’t what you’re up to, you really shouldn’t be telling the stories like you are , mwuah. Still love you, but please next time put the underwear in a separate bag so I know what it is and don’t reach in blind…

This brings a whole new meaning to family bonding.