I suppose that most people already know about the goodness that is color-safe bleach. I suppose that many people, people smarter than me, have already experienced the joy that is seeing spaghetti sauce come right out of a navy and white striped shirt. And I'm certain that I am nowhere near the first wife and mother to shout with glee as a particular article of clothing comes out of the wash minus the offending stain ( . . . that wouldn't have been there in the first place if you'd just listened to me, I mean I've told you fifty-million times, well, ok, 50 times then, but I've told you that you must rinse that stuff out immediately, and what the h about a bib already? . . . ).
I admit and accept that I'm a bit slow on this uptake.
But folks, the truth is hard to ignore - even if it's a commonly known one. Color-safe bleach is the savior of laundry and stain-tired women everywhere.
Let me paint you a picture of my laundry-life up until a few days ago:**
Baby-clothes, mounds and mounds of tiny socks and bloomers and jammies and shirts multiply like
mogwai each night while I sleep. And I mean multiply by enough to need washing nearly every day. For the record, it's a lot of washing and a lot more folding. Add to that record that somehow, every single piece of clothing is stained with something. Yes, I said every piece.
How the cheese sauce ends up on the bottom of her bloomers is beyond my ability to discern. But it's there, and it's ground in good. There are stains on her shirts, and stains on her shorts and stains on her socks and so many stains on her bibs I'm embarrassed to put them on the child in public. And many of these stains, mind you, have not been rinsed or pre-treated or even blotted off.
So every couple of days, you could find me hunched over the utility sink (thank God for that) in our laundry room with a pile of tiny garments and a bottle of stain remover. There I'd stand, spraying, scrubbing, rinsing, praying and attempting to cajole those worn in stains out of the fibers of the clothes. A lot of the time, I could get the marks out, but most of the time, this process took hours. And at the end of it, I was sore from being stooped over and cranky from breathing in the chemicals.
And then, world, then I discovered
Clorox 2.
It looks like detergent. It even smells like detergent, and thankfully, not like regular, chlorine bleach (though I have to admit that the Lavender scented one hubby recently brought home is a huge improvement in that vein). You can add it right to your washer with your regular laundry soap. It
brightens colors. And, it
whitens whites! But the key thing for me is that it
gets stains out of colored clothes, and that is currently one of the best parts of my week.
My laundry life now still involves large piles and many loads of dirty baby-clothes. But the agonizing hours of bending and scrubbing have been reduced to a matter of minutes. The moments of worry during especially messy dinner times have nearly faded, and it's now rare to hear the phrase, 'well, that's ruined' coming from my lips.
Clorox 2 is a life-saver. And for that, it takes it's place as a thing I love.
** In the interest of full disclosure, it must be noted that while my laundry life before the introduction of C2 was disheartening, it was not as awful as that of other women who are not married to a husband who actually does the laundry. During my 'mothering' season of the last few months, I've taken over that responsibility; however, it must be noted that during the first 4.3 years of our marriage, that amazing man washed nearly all of our stuff.
