Thursday, July 16, 2009

Demise of the sexy sweatpants.

Fish oil is amazing.

Rather than treat my PPD with antidepressants, I talked to my doctor and we agreed to try high doses of fish oil first. It's working.

Considering the sleep deprivation I'm dealing with, I really feel fantastic. In fact, I've been feeling so good that I've started to think about drinking the whole damn bottle of the stuff.

Because if some is good, more must be better.

I bought liquid fish oil. I'm not sure why. It was probably cheaper. I do not recommend liquid fish oil.

I bought peach flavor. It tastes like peach. And fish. And it's oily.

But even so, the effects were so good, I kept thinking about how I'd probably feel like Oprah if I drank the whole bottle.

And then one Saturday my sweet husband got up early with the babies and I was able to sleep until the luxurious hour of 8am. Feeling rested, I staggered out into the kitchen and was taken by the peachy smell my house had taken on. A little sleep, and you wake up to a world that's just peachy fresh.

And fishy.

Apparently, he'd opened the refrigerator and the fish oil, eager to help, had jumped out at him, crashed to the floor, and suffered from a lacerated cap.

Peachy fishiness had permeated our home. His sexy sweatpants (which I swear are actually sexy) were drenched. One of the babies had a new sheen to his little head. My kitchen floor had a polish I'd never seen. It was everywhere.

The floor and baby were quite washable.

Less washable? The sexy sweatpants.

I politely instructed that the sweatpants go directly into the laundry.

MISTAKE.

Considering my laundry pile and the rate at which I address it, it is nothing less than wholly inappropriate to ever suggest the addition of anything that is wet, smelly, or generally disgusting to said pile.

By the time the sexy sweatpants were washed, they had permeated the laundry pile for no less than a sturdy week.

The entire load came out smelling. And friends? Peachy fish is a dream when compared to the rancid rot that came out of my dryer.

Fish oil is delicate stuff. Unstable, I'm told. Rots easily.

I threw the entire load back into the washer. Did not pass go. Stepped over the massive laundry pile, and washed the shit out of that laundry.

I Dawned it, twice. As in the same treatment they give the poor sea animals after Exxon spills copious amounts of oil into the oceans. I followed my Dawn treatment with the works: every laundry product that I have, in massive quantities. Twice. I ran three rinse cycles.

Hopeful, I held my breath and threw it all into the dryer with four super scented dryer sheets.

The result? A dryer that smells like rotten fish. A trashcan full of clothes.

Farewell, sexy sweatpants.

I've switched to capsules. And lemon flavored, this time.


5 comments:

Halala Mama said...

OOOOOHhh my. Suddenly I'm glad I was only anemic and stuck on iron pills and blood transfusions. At least that didn't rot my wardrobe!

Grade A said...

And you thought the worst laundry issue you would have to deal with was poop. Glad the fish oil is working (the stuff that you actually get to ingest).

Deb said...

And now everything in your home that was hit by fish oil ~ floors, laundry ~ will feel good! And I am glad that you are feeling better!

Bess said...

I cannot breathe I'm laughing so hard. But in all seriousness, I am so happy there is another soul out there with babies and mountainous laundry piles.

m said...

I've got a little bit of a snort thing going on. Trying to laugh quietly (hubby's on his computer) but not doing very well. Holy shit. Peachy fishness. This shouldn't be funny. But it really is. I hope you're laughing.

If your man looks sexy in sweatpants, I bet he could easily rock a fresh new non-fishy pair.