Last week, I nearly died scrubbing our shower. It's true! I typically spray one wall of the shower, scrub it with the scouring side of the sponge, then scrub the grout with the toothbrush (I use Jason's, of course), rinse by turning on the shower, then finish by wiping it down with the soft side of the sponge...repeat until all walls, the door, the floor, and the ceiling have been done. But, this time, something went horribly wrong. I had only finished the ceiling and one wall when my lungs started burning. I felt like I couldn't pull in enough air. I realized that I had trapped myself in our tiny, coffin-like shower, I opened the door, hoping to suck in some sweet, fresh air. Unfortunately, our bathroom is smaller than most standard closets and has no ventilation. It wasn't until I managed to get out of our bathroom, our bedroom, and get clear down the hall that the air was breathable again. Geez, I thought to myself, that cleaner is good stuff! Chalk it up to excellent house wifery or just brain damage incurred from inhaling pure fumes for 20 minutes, but I went back in. This time, I left our bedroom AND bathroom doors ajar, propped open our tiny bathroom's minuscule window, and left the shower door wide open. This time, I got the floor finished and about a third of a second wall when I had to stumble, eyes burning, tears streaming down my cheeks, wheezing like I'd just run a quarter mile (I know...but I don't run, so...) all the way downstairs to get oxygen. What if I had blacked out in there? I shudder to think. I went in armed with cleaner, a sponge, and a toothbrush and left with burning, bloodshot eyes, a headache, and black-lung.
Tune in next week to learn about the hidden dangers of laundry in part two of the "Cleanliness is Next to Godliness" series!