a smurf exploded

So in the midst of la purga yesterday (which BTW is an ongoing thing, don't come over and sit still too long, I might throw you in the garbage or Goodwill pile on accident) a I had what looked like a smurf murder scene on my hands.

We had one of those huge bottles of Tide liquid detergent you buy at Costco, and apparently it had a small puncture in the bottom of the bottle. Over about 48 hours or so the little puncture allowed an astounding amount of fluid to slowly seep out all over part of the top of the drier, down the side, under it, and in a nice big pool between the drier and the water heater.

It really did look like someone offed a smurf.

While I lost about a third of the big ass bottle, which is a bummer, I can see he bright side in that my garage smells nice and the drier is much cleaner than I think it has ever been before. But it did get me thinking about how things like this seem to happen to me. I don't know if you have ever seen the commercial (I think it is for AT&T) where the guy shows up for the flash mob early and starts dancing and looking like a moron 30 minutes early because he didn't get the text until it was too late? Yeah, if I tried to do one of those that would so happen to me. I am just lucky like that. I prefer to think that it is some divine effort to make me laugh and find the humor in life rather than I just have bad luck, but some days it is a bit harder to convince myself of this.

So with a really clean section of my garage and less likelihood of the smurf mafia striking again, I start today with less laundry detergent and the hope that whatever little trying-to-make-me-smile lessons life has in store for me today they aren't too hard to clean up.

la purga

This week we are having a bit of a house purging.

Trust me, it is pathetically long overdue.

I admit that I am a pack rat, always have been. My husband married me, and my stuff, and its not like he walked into the whole thing blindly. But recently, with the addition of a new family member, our small house has gotten too small and so we have to purge. I don't know if it is a Mars/Venus thing or a Chrissy/Matt thing but clearly I put emotional attachments in things more than I ought to. As Matt so eloquently put it yesterday as he plead his case for me tossing a box of mini ceramic statues from my childhood:

"I keep things that I think to myself 'I can use that.' But you keep things that you say 'Oh, I remember that!'"

Now if I disregard the fact he threw his voice in a painfully obnoxious high pitched way when he said the "I remember that" part, I can actually see that what he said is true. I could point out that he keeps all sorts of weird random things that he feels he can use, like license plates ... but I would be shooting myself in the foot by pointing it out because we DO use those things. (The licence plates adorn our backyard bar.) I do keep things because of the memory they bring back. But I often keep stuff out of guilt.

So I am taking a small break from "la purga" because as I watched my nine year old agonize over a hotwheel because he remembered when he got that one I realized that its not a Mars/Venus thing but in-fact a "Chrissy" thing ... one I clearly passed on to him.

Oops.