Ironing on Tuesday

May 21, 2013

Ironing on Tuesday

When you think of the days of the week, Mondays are special (but not necessarily in a good way) because it starts the week.  Wednesday, everybody knows, is hump day.  You have managed to hang in at work for three days and happily slide down towards Friday and the weekend.  Fridays, are of course, wonderful just because they mark the end of your regular work week and then you have two days on your own to do all the wifey stuff - groceries, laundry, paperwork and maybe you even iron (though I can't imagine why).  I own an iron and it's somewhere in the house but if I was offered a million dollars I don't think I could easily put my finger on it.

Growing up one of my weekly duties was the ironing.  How I hated it.  My mother made me iron the pillowcases, handkerchiefs (remember those) and of course my own clothes.  Long sleeve blouses were the easiest.  When she wasn't looking I simply ironed the collars and sleeves since most of the time I wore sweaters over the blouses.  Easy.  If she noticed, she never said anything.

One of the most dreaded ironing tasks is pleated skirts.  I guess the care of pleated skirts has greatly improved but I wouldn't know because I haven't owned one since I left high school.  I was so traumatized by trying to get the pleats done correctly that I actually allowed one of my skirts to become moldy and then hid it in the trash.  Mom always sprinkled her clothes in advance and rolled them up and covered everything with a towel.  Well the skirt in question was stealthy removed from the basket and sat in my closet until it was no longer an attractive, or wearable skirt.  Again lucky for me that Mom never asked about the skirt.  I wasn't a very good storyteller and she swore that she could tell when I was lying.  Anyway, the secret is out but since my Mom has passed away I can't be ratted out by my siblings.

When I came home from school on Tuesdays there was the dreaded wicker basket filled with damp clothes that needed immediate attention.  I ironed my brother's uniforms when he was working at Kraft Foods (icky job both for me and him).  I wasn't allowed to go out and play (even though in high school we didn't really play, we just hung out) until the ironing was done. Curses.

Of course in between ironing and trying to fix dinner and watch my sister I was also supposed to get my homework done and keep up my grades.  By the time I got married at 18 (big mistake) I was already used to running a house.  The difference between my parent's house and my tiny dingy apartment was they had money - and I had none.

Even though today is a Tuesday I have nothing to iron so I'm going to sit around and continue working on paperwork even though I have zero motivation to do so.

Enjoy Tuesday whether you are at work or sitting behind an ironing board!

P