The following post is sponsored by Clorox, which, coincidentally, may as well sponsor our stain-ridden lives as much as we’ve come to depend on them.
Have you ever noticed that after you buy something, you’re more apt to see whatever it is you’ve purchased in the course of your everyday life? Example: Last week, I bought a pair of trail-running shoes, ones I’d never seen before. But since purchasing them, I’ve noticed these exact shoes on the feet of no fewer than half a dozen folks. So I ask you, is it a mere coincidence that I’m just now seeing them? Or have these shoes been just as prevalent before my purchase, but I’m only now taking notice since I actually own a pair?
I ask you this for a reason: ever since my first post on Clorox’s Bleachable Moments, it seems that my family has seen more than its fair share of them. What is a Clorox Bleachable Moment, you might ask? When two small things add up to one big mess. Like, say, triplets and crayons:
Not good, friends. Not good at all. First off, my wife turned the color of that little Martian guy on Bugs Bunny. But, second, she then had the unenviable task of trying to return our sofa to its former glory. Thanks to several old toothbrushes and a bottle of Clorox bleach, she managed to do just that.
I’m guessing that such a mishap might sound familiar to you. At least if the 19,000+ stories on Clorox’s Bleach It Away Facebook Page are any indicator. You know about this promotion, right? Folks flocked to Clorox’s Facebook Page and shared their messy moments in hopes of winning $25,000, and I have to tell you, many of these stories are very funny, indeed. Among them, garden-variety potty training mishaps, a messy boy or two and the occasional fumbling of raw chicken onto the kitchen floor.
The field of bleachable moments is being narrowed down as we speak via popular vote. Given that March is such a good month for a tournament, it’s only appropriate that the messy mishaps are squaring off in a tournament of their own and we’ve already gone from the Dirty 32 down to the Unclean 16. Voting for this round ends at midnight on March 11, at which point, the field will be narrowed down to the Extreme 8. Entrants who survive that round will be the part of the Fulsome Four. A panel of judges chooses the grand prize winner from those four and that lucky person will walk away with 25 bingos.
This is one of the coolest social media campaigns I’ve ever seen. It’s funny, informative (Clorox offers suggestions to remedy the various bleachable moments), exciting and, with $25,000 on the line, potentially lucrative. What’s not to like?
I can only think of one thing. Since I’m helping spread the word about this cool program, Caroline and I aren’t allowed to enter. Which means the triplets’ recent couch exploits can’t possibly be converted into cash. And that means it’s up to them to find their way out of the doghouse.
Speaking of doghouses, the triplets have somehow managed to be outdone by the only member of our family who actually lives in one. Regular readers of my blog are no doubt familiar with Briggs’ exploits by now. Equal parts lovable and disgusting, our chocolate lab presents quite the conundrum to my lovely wife. On the one hand, not only does she find him gross, but she’s also allergic to him, so he’s not exactly at the top of her list. But on the other hand, our children absolutely adore Briggs, so it’s hard for her not to love him, too.
But he does make our lives more difficult, most notably via his never-ending quest for food. You name it, he’s eaten it. Loaf of bread (including cellophane wrapper)? Why not? Steaks hot off the grill? Don’t mind if I do. What about the ribs I spent over six hours smoking to perfection? Yep. Bones and all. Which is sort of his style, you know. To leave no trace.
Briggs has, quite literally, opened a pizza box with his paw, snatched but one single slice with his snout before somehow closing the pizza box without leaving so much as a single crumb on the floor. He’s also eaten half of a huge pot of chili that was sitting on the stove without making a mess. And most recently, he gobbled up a dozen brownies along with the foil in which they were wrapped.
Did I mention that Briggs has a queasy stomach? Or so we’ve gathered from the mementos he leaves after each of his human-food benders. Here’s what he was nice enough to leave us after the brownie situation:
Okay, I am SO sorry for uploading that picture, you have no idea. I really hope I didn’t just create a bleachable moment of your own, but I just wanted to show you what, exactly, we’re up against with Briggs.
So two things. First, the above situation was remedied with the help of a mop, hot water and Clorox bleach (with several Clorox-wipes chasers). And second, though his mess was a quicker fix than the triplet’s couch debacle, it’s taken Caroline longer to forgive Briggs than it did for her to forgive the triplets, proving, I suppose, that Caroline’s more tolerant of cleaning up behind this:
as opposed to this:
And I can’t say that I blame her. Especially given the fact that Briggs once gave us a Clorox Bleachable moment that nearly cost us our marriage.
You see, Briggs was around long before Caroline and I tied the knot. And it was only begrudgingly that Caroline accepted the fact that he and I were a package deal, quick to point out his many faults. Reports of these faults always began with the same preface: “Honey, your dumbass dog is at it again.”
I soon grew immune to these malicious updates pertaining to my well-meaning hound, but when the triplets were just babies, Caroline called me with one that brought me to my knees.
“Honey, your dumbass dog is at it again.”
“What’s he eaten now?” I said. “More pizza? Cookies, maybe?”
“I’m afraid not. This time, it’s far more disturbing. He’s dug into the garbage under the sink. You know, where we dispose of all the triplets’ diapers?”
No. Please no.
“And he’s eaten every last one of them. And guess what, honey? He just threw up all over the floor. And it doesn’t smell like throw up, either!”
“Well, honey, you’ve always claimed that Briggs had sh!t for brains. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he had sh!t for lunch, too.”
My quick-witted response didn’t go over as well as I’d hoped. Guess who left work to tend to Briggs’ thoughtful contribution to our foyer? It was either that, or watch Caroline pack up and leave, so the choice was an easy one. A big thank you to Clorox for helping me clean up that mess, and, while I’m at it, a quick shout-out to my therapist for helping me come to grips with the fact that my dog had officially consumed my children’s DNA.
And props to mom, too. Turns out she was right. It really isn’t that great of an idea to kiss a dog on the mouth after all.
I wonder if Briggs’ diaper exploits would have made the Unclean 16? I kind of doubt it. The competition is pretty strong. Go check it out for yourself by clicking here, and don’t forget to vote for your favorites!
A huge thank you to Clorox for sponsoring this post (and helping us deal with Briggs).