Use #4: Disinfecting the gaming console.

If you're like me, and even if you aren't like me, chances are, since you're reading this BLOG, you are probably not technically challenged. That is, since you're reading this Blog, you at least know (a) what a Blog is (confession: I didn't until I saw it mentioned in a Thursday night sitcom, and I've been in the high-tech industry almost my entire life), (b) you know how to use a computer for recreational purposes, and not merely as a tool to catapult your career forward to your next paycheck, and that leads to (c) you're not afraid of technology, and have in fact embraced the cold, hard silicon-based whirring virtuality of computer games, and have at least one of the aforementioned "gaming consoles" in your home.

C'mon, admit it: You've been playing electronic games since you got your first Pong game at Montgomery Ward(oops, that's dating myself) or at least your first Nintendo-something game system. You gotta have at least one game or game-type electronic device -- battery-powered handheld thingies count -- in your home. And, if you're like me (or not) you also have allowed your young charge (a.k.a. 'kid') play with the gadget at least once. Or twice. Or until he / she collapses from sheer fatigue from pushing buttons and watching fabulous colors appear, seemingly at the child's control. Too bad you never showed your 2-year-old how to get past the demo mode. Face it - you, like me, use these game machines to escape reality, either by using them to submerge yourself into artificial worlds rich with bizarre creatures and anatomically-enhanced heroines in revealing undies rescuing civilization forever hanging in the balance, or more importantly, as a virtual babysitter to entertain junior so you can do more important things, like submerge yourself into artificial worlds on the NEW gaming console you bought last week so junior could play with the old one. Ha! Caught you, didn't I?

OK, more importantly, if your kids are gonna play with these - and if they exist in your living space they are - they need to be CLEANED. Every child leaves a trail of 'something' that is even present immediately after a bath. I can't explain "it", I think physicists have proven of "its" existence, but "it" needs to be cleaned off the games to prevent total catastophic failure. After all, you can't have a sticky joystick preventing you from saving planet Gyzz for the 45th time because you wanna see the 'anatomically enhanced' part I mentioned earlier.

The instruction booklet warned you not to use liquids directly on the device, right? SO use the wipes WITHOUT SQUEAZING THEM INTO TIGHT DRIPPING BALLS OF GOO. The idea is not to saturate the equipment so that liquid from the wipe gets inside the machinery. Just lightly wipe the outside surfaces of the device, controllers, keypads, etc. Don't wipe inside cartridge slots or try and clean CD lenses with them, though. Just wipe on the outside of the equipment. Oh, yeah, one other detail: Unplug the thing or take out the batteries before you clean. Trust me. Its a safety thing. Also, A pointed object, like a dull pencil, wrapped with a baby wipe helps get into tight spots where month-old peanut butter has solidified and become the 4th hardest substance known to man.
COST: $0.10, if you don't already have a dull pencil
SAVINGS: Your sanity, maybe some trips to the pediatrician because you're cleaning the playstation regularly and keeping the kids from sharing germs when they share the game controllers. I'd also say saving the game itself, but that might take away the next excuse to use on your spouse to run out and buy the new Playstation 32!


Use #3: Ant Repellant.

Mind you, I'm not suggesting you pass up hiring a professional exterminator, but the fragrence component of baby wipes seems to irritate those miniscopic, nosy, pesky little pests you find in your kitchen; You know, the ones marching single-file, headed straight away for the waste can that maybe your spouse neglected to take out after discarding those frozen chicken gizzrds you've been saving in tyhe back of the freezer for that special evening feast. Anyway, as you wipe up the pests, the ants stick to the wipe's surface, and that invisible trail the rest of the pack follows gets disrupted, confusing the little bastards you missed when you wiped 'em up half an hour ago. Placing a fresh baby wipe at the point of entry can be effective also, by persuading the army of marching black scum to turn around and head for home --er-- nest. Notice I said repellent -- this is not a method for solving a serious ant infestation, but can be used as a weapon in the arsenal for fighting a major invasion. Possible applications might be barriers to convice reluctant ant colonists to take bait from those bait traps you put down that seemed ineffective. Try using wipes as ramparts, uh, walls, to guide the ants to the traps, sorta like radio fence for insects.
COST: $0 - After all, the premise of this blog is that you save everything, and you're trying to find uses for wipes you already have. As a plus, they add value to those bait traps you bought at Wal-Mart last summer and stuck in the closet, because your wife said they'd never work.


Use #2: Sponge-Bath replacement.

I just had surgery in a rather embarrassing spot on my body. Let's just say I've been the butt of many jokes since the procedure. This resulted in (a) Two golfball-sized biohazard masses removed from a posterior my editors are used to kicking, (b) Twelve stitches required to close the surgical extraction point from which Titleist One and Titleist Two emerged, and (c) The nurse's frighteningly ominous instructions of "don't get the incision wet for three days or you'll be sorry" ringing in my ears just as the anesthetic wore off. This predicament led to the discovery outlined here. It seems that these pre-moistened jewels of many uses have the ability to cleanse one thoroughly without using additional water, and offer an element of control not offered by your common household showerhead. Ergo, we have yet another practical use for the outmoded bottom-cleaner --or in this case bottom-avoider! The wipes kill adult body odor as well as they clean poo-poo from baby's bum-bum, and allow me to keep my surgically-compromised bum-bum dressing free of the evil di-hydrogen-oxide (water), which would be next to impossible in the shower. Not to mention, I smell like a kid again.
COST: $0 - we already have the 20-or-so wipes needed each morning (and evening if you're really self-conscious) - having one of those pop-up dispensers left over from diaper duty helps greatly for the bending-over-impaired, too.
SAVINGS: No trips to the doctor to re-do the surgical dressing that you were supposed to keep dry! Think how proud your scary nurse will be!