Caution: Do not mix with bleach.

I am convinced that motherhood decreases brain capacity. Despite the multi-tasking skills we quickly acquire out of necessity, I'm pretty sure that the number of times I have done something stupid like locking my keys in the car, letting go of a stroller(containing one of my children) on a hill while trying to rescue another of my children who fell off her tricycle, burning my hair at my brother's wedding while leaning over a candle, and other such things has increased ten fold since bearing children. It's as if some of my brain tissue comes out with the placenta.


About two weeks ago, my sister Jill was cleaning her bathroom (well, our bathroom, but since she is currently the primary user, I will call it hers) and found a stubborn spot that simply could not get scrubbed off with the multi-purpose bathroom cleaner with which I had supplied her. She asked if I had anything stronger. I suggested that she use a special shower cleaner that has never failed me in my bathroom. After trying that, she still couldn't get the little bugger off so I grabbed a product containing bleach, applied it to the area, and began scrubbing myself. I remarked to her that I can't stand the smell of bleach because I had a very special (for lack of a better word) roommate who bleached the toilet seat before and after each use. Before I could finish my sentence, I pretty much started to hyperventilate due to the fumes.

We both scrambled to open windows left and right, I turned the shower on full blast to flush the cleaner, and ran to the opposite end of the house. Not good enough. I could barely breathe and started to wonder what sort of damage I was doing to my children's lungs so we decided to evacuate. Jill and the girls wrapped a blanket around them while we waited on our back patio until the air was once again breathable.

Once inside, I checked the label of my shower cleaner which, of course, had printed in bold (caution: do not mix with bleach). As if I had to read the label to realize what an idiot I am. It pretty much stands to reason that you should not mix anything with bleach. To beat myself up even further, I proceeded to do some online research and discovered that I had mixed two chemicals that pretty much equated to a biological weapon. And I store them in my house? After this experience, I think I might have to go green on the household chemicals. Okay, so maybe I'm not completely sold on that idea. One thing I know for sure: my brains came out when I gave birth to my kids. My consolation: at least they kept some of them for themselves.

Here's a picture of the patio fun(Jill, Lily and Rachel snagged the blanket, leaving me to freeze) - can you tell it was a bit chilly that day?