Every Little Thing He Does is Magic

My husband is quite dreamy, but I’m actually talking about my new boy on the side, Mr. Clean. Gold hoop earring, white t-shirt, shiny bald head and all – I’m completely smitten. With seven guests on their way to my house this weekend (that’s 9 butts total and only 2 bathrooms), it’s time to break out the supplies and start the scrub-a-thon.

I have a confession to make, Mom. That Mr. Clean Magic Eraser you sent me 6 months ago has been collecting – not cleaning – dust under the kitchen sink since I pulled it out of the box. Every time I reach for my tried-and-true cleaners, I pass right over it and think to myself that I need to throw the stupid thing away. Being the skeptic I am, I assumed like any other product labeled “magic”, this one would be no exception to the infomercial rule. It was sure to be a totally over dramatized, overpriced, too-good-to-be-true flop right? Boy was I wrong. And magic is actually an understatement. This thing should officially be named the 8th wonder of the world.

I started with the soap scum in the shower. Round 1, Magic Eraser. Then I moved onto the wall scratches caused by sloppy vacuuming. Round 2, Magic Eraser. That one was too easy. Alright Mr. Clean, how about the baked-on, flame kissed, black as night spatters of old spaghetti sauce on my white stove? I’ve tried everything in the books to remove them – bleach… Brillo pads… you name it. The stains at least fought back on this one, but in the end it was no match. Round 3, Magic Eraser.

Run out and get one (or use the one your mom sent you) and by all means let me know if you find something it can’t obliterate. In the meantime, I’ll be writing to Mr. Clean asking when I can expect to see a beauty version that will magically erase my crows feet and stretch marks. I’ll keep you posted.