Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Iron Will Not Be Ignored

I have grown up with a love/hate relationship with ironing. I love the results...hate the effort it takes to achieve the results.

Ironing is at the root of one of the biggest "mads" I have ever achieved (before I understood what our government was doing to all of us). I must have been home from college. I had ironed a white pleated pair of shorts, and after finishing, I laid them over a chair while I headed to the shower. While I was in the shower, my younger (very sneaky) sister took the shorts, put them on and left the house. DID SHE NOT KNOW THAT I HAD JUST EXPENDED THE ENERGY AND FRUSTRATION OF IRONING ALL OF THOSE PLEATS?!!! My grandma reminds us of the incident regularly, adding that she had never seen me so mad as I was that day.

And when I hear that people iron their bedsheets....WHAT? I can not comment further for fear I will become nauseous.

I survived my engineering career by ironing only what was going to show...the collar, cuffs and front of a blouse. I would never bother with the back, sleeves, shoulders. I was willing to suffer any heat-induced discomfort, that might otherwise cause someone to remove their jacket, just so I would not have to spend the time ironing parts that I could keep hidden.

And, oh modern times....when wrinkle free fabrics started hitting the market...what a happy girl am I! That is an absolute requirement of clothing that is purchased and worn with any regularity in our house. If something proves itself to not be wrinkle-free...it is swimming with the fishes (figuratively, of course!). Until I can move it along to an OCD owner, it is crumpled up and tucked away.

Recently, though, my husband remarked that I have ironed more in the last few weeks than I have done the previous 16 years of marriage. Why? Please see the picture above. My girls love making shapes with the brightly colored beads that I then melt together with the iron. They are a great rainy day activity and are doing wonders for the three-year-old's fine motor skills. So, until I can get these little buggers hidden away in the basement, I will iron...although, I have had to implement the "I'm only going to iron once a day" rule. Thankfully there are no pleats...

1 comment:

Falula said...

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha .... oh, how I remember with such clarity the tale of screaming that was likely heard around the neighborhood when you got out of the shower and realized I had donned and dashed!