in case you were wondering, they don't mix.
yesterday mr. charlesworth and i were having a mighty good time. we had gone to noodles and company and even gotten an extra ginormous rice-crispy treat to share. when we came home mr. charlesworth went to get the clothes out of the dryer, he is very on top of these things you know, when all of the sudden he moaned "beaaaaar!"
my first thought was that perhaps i had left my shoes in the middle of the floor and mr. charlesworth had tripped right over them.
this is a major problem in our house, well through mr. charlesworth's eyes anyway. i seem to take off my shoes and leave them right where i was standing, almost as though i walked right out of them. there they sit until the next time i'm looking for those shoes, or until company is coming and i run franticly throughout the house picking up pair after pair and throwing them into our closet. well now, mr. charlesworth doesn't much like to have to look were he is walking and quite possibly will trip over my shoes at least once a day or so. this drives him silly.
my second thought was perhaps i had left on a light, you know, kind of forgotten to turn it off.
this is another major problem in our home, at least, once again through mr. charlesworth's eyes. you see, i like to see where i am going and i often forget to switch the lights off after i leave the room. since mr. charlesworth wants to single handedly save the planet, or at least our energy bill, one could see how this could drive him absolutely mad.
sadly however, neither of these things were the reason for his moan of my name (in this house my name is bear, not sara, so much so that if i hear him call me sara it kind of freaks me out). how i would have loved one of these things to have been the reason, but no, what happened in that sad little laundry room was much, much, much worse. out of the laundry room came mr. charlesworth with a poor excuse of a lipstick bottle that had died and melted in the dryer leaving its red blood all over our clothes, mr. charlesworth's clothes.
by the look on his face i thought this must be it, how i'm going to die i mean, an angry husband gone mad with red lipstick died clothes, a true case of the mean reds. all i could muster out was a pathetic little sorry, like sorry could un-dye his favorite work shirts, or take away the fact that they were probably ruined. it sounded small and dumb coming out of my mouth, but it was all i could think to say. "sorry".
well because mr. charlesworth is actually quite gracious, he has sparred my life this time, but warned me next time i may not be so lucky:) in all actuality he remained pretty calm about the incident and with a little dry cleaning magic the clothes may survive the attempted mass murder. if only the same could be said about the lipstick. rest in peace covergirl natureluxe red lip balm, you will be missed.