Ironing

I didn't iron the other night. I had every good intention; I even blogged about it -- and we all know that as soon as it gets out into the public, then it has to happen... ;O)

Anyway, we have some good friends here in town who REALLY need to sell their house. Their agent is having an open house this weekend, so they needed to go over there and do some cleaning (it's been sitting for a bit). It was Tuesday night and since I would be home alone (Mark has class), I asked my friend if she wanted me to help. So, that's why I didn't iron. Totally good excuse.

I'm the kind of person who likes things to be ironed. I'm sure it's because I grew up where it was expected that EVERYTHING be ironed. Yes, everything. Even tshirts. I played basketball for 7 years and practiced at least 4 times a week. Think about how many tshirts had to be ironed in those years... My mom is an angel. I helped, but believe me, my mom did most of it. When I think about it now, I either giggle or just reminisce in awe.

Obviously, I don't iron tshirts anymore -- I'm good at pulling them out of the dryer quickly and folding them. To be completely honest, I miss the crisp line on the sleeves, but let's face it, it's not going to happen.

I like to iron. I like to iron if I can watch TV at the same time. And I like to iron if I can do it all at one time. So, that's why I keep putting it off. I'm waiting until that chunk of time when I can iron the laundry from the weekend (only our work clothes, really). But then, when things like Tuesday night's spontaneous plans pop up, the ironing gets set aside. Result: I'm ironing one shirt at a time in the mornings. So now, not only do I have to keep putting up and taking down the ironing board and plugging and unplugging the iron (which I hate), I have to do it when I'm still droggy. Result: pain from ironing board hitting foot (happened this morning) + potential for serious burns (Hasn't happened. Yet.).

I need to iron tonight. For my own safety.