Last night I couldn’t find my laundry detergent. In the past I’ve misplaced my keys, my purse, my glass of wine and my mind, but never a five-pound jug of Tide. So I put on my stained sweatpants (the reason I was doing laundry in the first place) ran to the store, bought a new bottle, all the way thinking to myself “how in the heck did I get soap jacked?” Got home, threw my clothes in the washer, poured a glass of wine, had a lovely evening where I drifted off into a blissfully dreamless slumber. Not quite.

Turns out the missing jug of detergent found its way from the top of the dryer into the top of the open washer, and when it fell in, the cap popped off. This meant when I meticulously poured in my single capful of soap, I was really washing my clothes with 3 quarts of concentrated Gain. Picture this (if I was thinking instead of panicking, I would have taken a few pics) I was smack-dab in the middle of a bad Disney movie. Bubbles overflowing from the machine, down the hall, filling every inch of my home -- all I could do was take a huge gulp of wine and stare.

I was teetering on the brink, right about to lose it when I had an epiphany. “If this is the worst thing that can happen to me right now, I should be grateful because I have a charmed life.” Long story long, it took me about four solid hours of mopping (in all honestly it should have taken two hours, but like I said, I was drinking) and eventually all the soap came up and while it was a total pain in the ass, at least I can say, I have the cleanest floors in the Northern Hemisphere.

That’s why I’m grateful I have a charmed life.