Thursday, December 17, 2009

Ironed Out

In my home I am notorious for leaving my clothes: in the floor, rolled in a ball. Since I’ve “grown up” (i.e. aged but not matured) I have grown to put my clothes into my closet, rolled in a ball. At least they are off the floor, right?

Well the problem is, when you shove things into a tight space they tend to take on the shape of that space, creating a wrinkled mess. Since I never learned the fine art of ironing (my dad was so disappointed I never took a “Home Ec.” Class) I’ve never been particularly fond of it, nor good at it. I wanted to change my sheets and when I pulled the ball from my closet I realized that these wrinkles were truly out of control. The cleaning lady here irons the sheets (yes, irons the sheets) so well that I have to unfold a sheet to figure out if it is a duvet cover or a bottom sheet (seriously, how can one fold a fitted sheet so well?!). I didn’t even know that work-shirts could be ironed, at my house they are always dry-cleaned—perhaps the dislike of ironing is genetic? Anyway back to my sheets. I don’t know how something that is flat and more or less square could be so difficult to iron. Every time I shifted it over to iron a new section the previous section would become wrinkly once more. I finally just gave up and will have to settle with semi-wrinkled sheets.

Oh also, if the cord of your iron gets stuck on your duvet cover do not, I repeat, do not yank it sending the iron crashing to the floor. My reflexes almost beat my brain as I reached to grab the iron but then I thought better of it. Of course two pieces of the iron broke—so now I’m not sure if I’m ironing on low or high heat (oops) but that sort of thing doesn’t matter, right?

1 comment:

  1. You must take after your uncle Jim, everything was always on his closet floor. As far as ironing goes, read my comment for your sept. 4th post. Joe

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