The plumber stopped by the other day. With him, entered a new dishwasher. Because the dishwasher that came with our house when it was
thrown together built broke.
Let us all now pay our respects to the dearly departed dishwasher with a moment of silence.
ADIOS CRUDDY DISHWASHER THAT SOUNDED LIKE A BOEING 707 BLASTING OFF OUT OF MY KITCHEN EVERY NIGHT!
Good riddance stupid ugly black and white dishwasher. Go take up space in a land fill, why doncha.
So, the plumber unwrapped a pretty shiny white new and improved dishwasher. That holds all my tall tumblers on the TOP rack. Where tumblers belong. And shhhhhh. It’s quiet. I can actually carry on a conversation while it’s running. In the same room. I can now say, “Get to bed, American Idol is on.” Without the yelling.
However, once the plumber left, I became painfully aware of how dingy my white cabinets looked next to the squeaky clean white dishwasher. Because when the house was
thrown together built, I was child-free, and thought that white countertops and white cabinets would go very nicely with cheap white linoleum.
Someone should have knocked a bit of sense into me with the stupid stick.
Since I had emptied the cabinet under the sink so that Mr. Plumber could install this new appliance which would revolutionize my life, I noticed a box, with one lonely cleaning pad inside. My SIL, Trish, had given me a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser Pad to try, telling me it was simply wonderful and my life would never be the same.
I threw it under the sink and forgot about it for the next 4 months. Because I’m a hard sell. And it would mean that in using it, I’d have to actually, you know, clean something.
I picked it up, and got down on my hands and knees to get the plumber’s eye view, but without the plumber’s crack. Okay, he didn’t have a plumber’s crack. NOT that I was looking or would have noticed.
Frankly, I was horrified at the depths to which my housekeeping skills have sunk. I wet the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser Pad and started scrubbing.
Oh. My. Goodness.
IT WORKS REALLY REALLY WELL. With very little effort, on my part. And I couldn’t stop. I went around the kitchen, and even took the two year old yogurt off the walls.
Did I just admit that out loud?
I immediately called Trish to thank her. She had forgotten about it, and to celebrate, she reached under her sink and grabbed one as well. Later she called me very excited, “HAVE YOU TRIED IT ON YOUR FLOOR?”
She has listened to me gripe about cleaning (or not cleaning) my cheap white linoleum nearly every day for 9 long years. I dropped to my knees and began wiping the floor while on the phone.
Then she said, “And I think this thing comes in a mop, too!”
At that point, we realized that we both probably need to get out more.
And so, I will be heading out to Sam’s Club to purchase an industrial sized box of these magic cleaning pads. And throw in the mop, too.
Mr. Clean, in the immortal words of Keith Partridge, I think I love you.
While doing my research on this product (translated: looking for an image to post) I found that this product definitely needs to be kept away from children. Kids have received abrasive type burns when they’ve rubbed the pad on their own skin.