Aug 23 2013

Honey-Can-Do Laundry For Dummies?

I don’t know about this. It… troubles me.

If it were only “laundry for dummies” I don’t think I would have noticed. But the “Honey-Can-Do” part makes me wonder if this is a “men are soooo stupid, so let’s help them learn how to wash clothes. Ha ha!”

Not that men being crappy at clothes washing is an impossibility. Although it is also possible for women to be bad at laundry. Gender does not determine laundry prowess.

Mostly I think my feeling can be summed up by saying “feh.” Moving on.

Jul 26 2011

Sorry Environment, Camp Towels Need Scent

Tide Original Scent with ActiLift

I know that we’re supposed to be all natural and green and whatever. And I am. Sometimes. But I have to say this: sorry environment. Camp towels need scented laundry detergent. Read more »

Oct 06 2009

Even With Laundry I Like To Be Right

Wonderful world of wash and wear

I have a history of starting to do things that I know very little about. Becoming a theater publicist, for example. Or a freelance writer. Or having kids.

Now that I’m a stay at home dad, there are a lot of things that I do that I don’t really know how to do. Like doing laundry. When  was single I did laundry out of necessity. That is, my clothes were vile, which would cause me to get fired from my job if I wore them, therefore I had to do laundry. I did it as infrequently as possible, and if I could have afforded it, I would have sent it out. I did a decent enough job but I didn’t do things like “iron” or “fold” very often.

Most of the time we have a housekeeper wash our clothes. Or we send it out. But sometimes situations demand that I schlep down to the basement and wash the kids’ clothes. This time it was bathing suits, left at camp over the weekend so they were stinky beyond belief. While I was at it, I threw in the stuff that my youngest “accidented” on at day care. It was a small-ish load, but it had to be done.

My first attempt was met with resistance. Well, passive resistance — no machines were free. I went back upstairs and waited. Next time there was a machine available, albeit one that had a 41 minute cycle. This seemed excessive but I wasn’t going to wait.

When I went down to put the load in the drier, I saw a woman who I know by face but not by name. (This is a common theme in my life; I’m great with faces, terrible with names. Who are you again?) She complained that last night, all of the machines were in use, and that she was going to have to sit and stare at the driers until one opened up.

But! Being a chivalrous sort, I told her that I was planning to pull my clothes out of the machine early.

“Oh yeah?” she said. “When?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably about 15 minutes.” I had thought of this already but wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea. But I projected confidence.

“Oh, of course,” she said. “That’s what I do too. Probably just some kids’ stuff?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bathing suits, you know.” She might know. But I sure as hell don’t.

“Exactly,” she said. “That’s what I do.” She was thrilled that I told her I would be back in 15 minutes. “I’ll be down there in 12,” she said.

So now I’m sitting with my iPod Touch as a timer, counting down the minutes and seconds until I return to the basement to retrieve my stuff. Because I wouldn’t want to disappoint a fellow parent. I also didn’t want to admit that I was unsure about what to do with regards to laundry. Why? I don’t know. At worst the woman probably would have found me amusing, something that happens to me on occassion, and now that I’m married and not attempting to get laid, this is a perfectly acceptable reaction. But I wanted to be RIGHT. I wanted to show that I KNOW HOW TO DO LAUNDRY.

P.S.: 12 minutes later I went back downstairs. No one was there. I grabbed the kids’ clothes — which were now dry — and left. There was still time on the machine for whoever wanted it.


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