Story Weekend: Laundry
As I pull the suddenly pink towels (and the culprit: a red t-shirt) out of the dryer ($%#%&*#!), I can think of only one topic for Story Weekend. So have at it, folks. What’s your laundry story?
If you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:
▪ The story must be true.
▪ Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.
▪ Avoid offensive language.
Have a good weekend, everyone!
I cannot believe I am about to tell you this. In fact, color me shocked…..I dont have a laundry story!! Except I used to work at a laundromat at about age 18. Now there are some stories with that….
I don’t think I have one. One time something, and I still don’t know what, got into the washing machine and left brown streaks on every single thing in that load. Ruined a whole load of laundry.
I was going on a work convention and had lots of clothes to wash. I put the clothes in the machine, and the water poured into the drum. All of a sudden, the machine stopped! I peered in, and saw a load of dirty clothes sitting in water. PANIC! I pushed this button and that, and nothing happened! I checked the fuse — all was OK in that department. Then I checked my warranty, and it had expired two days before. Yikes!! I called the repairman anyway, and after $125, it turned out that one of the buttons was pushed halfway in and had cancelled out the cycle. Was my face red (but at least my clothes got clean).
We went on vacation about ten years ago and hubby was driving the company truck. We stopped to do laundry at a laundermat and put all the clean clothes(some on hangers) in the bed of the truck with a tarp tied around them. We had been on the interstate for about an hour when this car behind us started honking and honking. They finally got beside us and was pointing to the back of the truck. We pulled over and a shirt on a hanger was dangling out the back of the truck. Crazy! Later we found out a couple more shirts were missing and hubby’s jacket–probably in the middle of interstate somewhere. LOL
How bizarre that the theme is laundry mishaps as this very morning, my loving husband decided to “help out” with the overflowing washing basket whilst I was out. I came back in time to see him pull the latest load out of the machine, and there it was, my gorgeous green wool drape cardigan, approximately four sizes smaller and the seams all squewiff, oh dear oh dear oh dear! it wasn’t a pretty sight that ensued and needless to say the once loved item was launched into the bin for maximum effect. Hopefully he will pay a visit to the shops this week…..!
One busy afternoon when my two children were three and five, I was in a rush to get them to a dentist’s appointment. Before leaving for the dentist, I took the bed sheets out of the washer and quickly threw them in the dryer, tore a fabric softener sheet from the rol, threw it in on top of the bed sheets, and left the house. When we returned from the dentist, the smell of fabric softener filled the garage. When I unlocked the door and went inside, the entire house reeked of it. Upon removing my sheets from the dryer, I realized I had torn off one fabric softener sheet and put it on top of th dryer and thrown the entire remaining roll inside with the wet wash. Those bed sheets were gooey with fabric softener and had to be washed several times to remove the smell and the feel.
I am so picky with the way my laundry is sorted, washed and, yes, even the way it is loaded into the dryer that I’ll just let that statement be my story. It’s ridiculous and I know that but I can’t seem to help myself. I suppose one could say I have OCD, but only while doing laundry. Thankfully my family just laughs; they know I’m not going to criticize their methods. What can I say. It’s the way I was taught by my mother and grandmother. I hearken back to the days of hanging clothes outside to dry and the pride my mother had in producing such a “beautiful” display of clothing and household linens.
…oops – harken, not hearken!
It is a dark and stormy night… Well it is. Just another excuse not to do laundry. What if the power goes out? What if I’m left with a washer half-filled with water? What if I’m left with a dryer full of wet clothes?
See how easy it is to procrastinate about doing the laundry? I, and I’m not exaggerating, I am the world’s champion at not doing my laundry. Oh, laundry is not the only thing that is the object of my procrastination but laundry is definitely the most prominent in my march to postponing the world.
See? For the past 5 minutes I’ve been very successful at continuing on my world’s record and you, Diane, are the cause.
My mom would always tell me this story. When her and my dad first got back from their honeymoon, my grandma thought she would do them a favor and took almost all of their clothes to the laundromat. She put the clothes in the machines and then left to get a cup of coffee. When she got back, the laundromat was on fire!! It burned down and took all the clothes with it!!
My washing machine eats socks. ‘Where do they go,’ I ask myself, as yet another load disgorges one sock that is grieving over the loss of its mate?
I’ve checked the laundry basket, including behind it, followed my trail from there to the machine, and peered behind that too. The result – nothing!!
Should I be blaming the dryer instead? No, that’s empty too, no sign of the truant playing foot warmer. If I dry them outdoors, could a bird have stolen it to make a nest?
Is there a super sleuth out there, who can come to my rescue?
Back in the day I use to buy my Levi 501 ‘s in the men’s department partly because they fit better than the women’s ones and partly because I more than fancied the guy who worked there:) Before I dawned them with my charity shop navy blue leather man’s biker jacket and aviator shades, I headed to the laundromat to wash them in scalding hot water and then drying them on the hottest setting to shrink the crap out of them. We only had hot water at home heated in the tank on the Kemac stove. Many a happy hour was spent in that laundromat reading True Confessions magazines that someone had left behind and were banned in my home. The denim may have faded but my resolve never did.
Okay, hands down, I definitely win! When I was fairly newly married I did a load of laundry combining many things, all light colors. What I didn’t realize was that I washed the curtains with my husband’s underwear, the curtains were fiberglass! You guessed it, my husband’s underwear itched him in all the wrong places and of course he never let me forget it.
I think you do win, Jo!
Okay, I am late, but I have a good excuse…I have been battling the flu…but this is my story. I tried to come up with one, and I think all of the above has happened to me.. So I thought I would tell you some fond memories of Laundry. Yes, there are a few. My first memories of helping my Granny with laundry. She had one of those old timey washing machine. Where you put the clothes in the washer, and then you would wring them out into the rinse water, and then you would wring them them out into the tub. We would carry them out doors and hang them on the clothes line. They always came off the line warm with sunshine and smelling of Mother Natures natural fragrance. Ohhh the combination was glorious. And after we took our bath at night and found the bed, it was end to a perfect day at my Granny’s house. Granny I miss you so much…
My worst was doing a load of black sweaters and pants. . . with two tissues in one of the pockets. Took forever to pick off all the lint.
The culprit of our laundry mishaps has been my “helpful” husband, beginning way back when! Our infant SON’s layette once emerged PINK from our; washer; forgetting to check pockets, gum has gotten stuck where it should not, crayons have melted and my rosary was partially consumed by a hungry machine:( Never one to discriminate, Nick has shrunk both “old & new” woolen sweaters and, although having a 50% chance of getting it right, he constantly dries clothing that should be hung and hangs what should be dried! Astonishingly, silks have been washed while cottens have been dry cleaned!!! It is indeed a puzzlement however, to know him is to love him and he is really cute:)
My son was about two years old at the time, andh emnaaged to pur an entire packet of washign powder into it. How to gt it out? Wash it out, of course! Simple. So I filled the machine up with water, and let it spin itself empty. Or so I thought. But when I opened the door, a tidal wave of foam swept across the kitchen floor like a Tsunami. It was a large kitchen, with a lot of floor, but that foam managed to cover the lot. My enduring memory ot this – nearly forty years on – is of my neigbour, who had cllaed in to help with the emergency, comforting my little boy. “It’s all rght. Mummy’s laughing, No, she’s not…she’s crying. No, Mummy’s laughing…” Well, at least I can laugh now.
Several years ago while living in the UK I was using my front loading washing machine. Thinking that the load was finished I opened the door & WHOOSH out came all this hot soapy water. Needless to say it took a while to mop up, but at least I ended up with a clean floor.
I know this is late but I rarely come on the site. I leave laundry to the last minute and end up washing about 6 loads in one weekend. I don’t like carrying a basket so I just scope everything up in a towel that’s been used more time then I can count. Anyways I end up finding the laundry all over the house because I have to go down two flights of stairs to get to the basement. It can be funny. I’ll drop all sorts of clothes, and then I have to do things in loads. Pjs and intimate in one load, jeans and t-shirts in one and blacks in another and plus one load just for white. So that’s why there are so many loads.