Damn the soapsuds, full speed ahead

I consider myself a pretty smart guy. I was raised by a teacher mama and farmer daddy, so I got the best of both worlds when it came to book smarts and common knowledge. I graduated from high school with honors, and later attained a bachelor’s degree from a large Southern university.

However, today, I whole-heartedly admit that a simple household-cleaning product has outsmarted me, Ryan McCollough. Like superheroes in cartoons and every protagonist in a Disney Channel series, I have a mortal enemy. Mine isn’t an evil villain bent on world domination or the chairman of the cool kids table. I am currently at war with soap.

During last weekend’s football Saturday, I decided to wash some dishes. That sounds like an easy task, but I am particular about how that chore gets handled.

While attending Troy University, I worked in the kitchen at a barbecue restaurant and washed my way though four years of higher education. Moral of the story, I don’t hand wash dishes unless it is absolutely necessary.

Luckily for hard-headed Ryan, my apartment has a dishwasher, and this, my friends, is where the story takes a climatic turn.

After searching my cabinets high and low, I couldn’t find any Cascade washing powder. After a quick back-and-forth in my head, I decided that it would be OK to use the Dawn soap sitting on the back of my sink.

Yes, it is OK to take a few moments to laugh at my stupidity. I won’t be offended. As one would guess, things didn’t work well.

During half time of one of the football games, I went to the kitchen for a refill of tea. I rounded the corner and discovered my kitchen had been turned into a winter wonderland of soap and suds. The suds oozed from the dishwasher, spilling onto the floor and rising halfway up the cabinets.

My tea refill was put on hold.

I cleaned up the suds and wiped out the dishwasher. I figured the soap issues were in the past, but the cleaning concoction had much different intentions. I ended up repeating the cleaning process a total of three times.

When all was said and done, my dishes were still dirty, but there is no doubt I had the cleanest kitchen floor in the Wiregrass.

Following the kitchen snafu, it was time to wash clothes. This chore went smoothly, until time to pack up and come home. En route from the laundromat to my apartment, the washing powder decided it wanted to experience life outside of its cardboard box.

Before I could react, half of the washing powder was in my passenger seat. I’m still finding traces of detergent, however, my car smells “spring time fresh.”

I had long thought my battles with soap were over with. As a child, the cleaning product and my taste buds would face off after my mouth would let a profanity slip. My eyes have battled soap on hundreds of occasions. However, nothing compares to the one-two punch of last weekend.

My mortal enemy had laid in wait for years only to find the perfect time to strike. Touché, Commander Clean, you caught me with my guard down and took advantage. You won’t get the opportunity again, I can promise you that.

Ryan McCollough is a staff writer for The Southeast Sun and Daleville Sun-Courier. The opinions of this writer are his own and not the opinion of the paper. He can be reached at (334) 393-2969 or by email at [email protected].