Sunday, May 22, 2011


My mother does her laundry on Fridays and her ironing on Sundays. It's been like that ever since I can remember. I, on the other hand, do laundry when the hamper is full or when we nearly run out of towels, or if I need a particular dress for work. I iron - in a hurry - only on the mornings that I want to wear that particular dress. This morning was such an occasion. First I tried to quietly raise my deafeningly loud metal-on-metal screeching ironing board so as not to wake my entire sleeping family, and then I plugged in the iron so it could get hot while I brushed my teeth. I thought I heard a voice (other than the NPR host on the radio), so I turned off the water to see if someone was trying to tell me to hurry out of the bathroom. The voice, however, was coming from INSIDE the bathroom - specifically from the iron.

Oooooh. I just love the way this feels, don't you? (Imagine my surprise when, at 6:58 a.m., I distinctly heard Jean Arthur's cute little voice [see] coming from my iron!)

You ean ow it's all ot? (Well, I did have a mouthful of toothpaste....)

Exactly...yes...well...that's just what I mean. You see, I just love that all-over warm feeling.

(What a perky appliance for so early in the morning! I swooshed the toothpaste out of my mouth, dried my face and turned to the iron.)  Gee, it's too bad you're my iron. You don' t get many opportunities to be anything but cold.

Oh, I don't mind. Really I don't. I'd much rather be warm a few times during the week than to get really hot all in one day. Besides, I've never been one to get all steamed up over things. I'd say I'm pretty even-tempered.

Well I do mostly only use the setting right in the middle....

Oh yes, yes, I have noticed that. You know, I've started to encourage the ironing board to take life's ups and downs a little less seriously and I think I may have finally succeeded in raising his spirits.

That's wonderful! Do you think he'll groan less when I'm done this morning?

Well...(she wrinkled her brow and gave me a kind of innocent, clueless look), it's a little hard to say, really. He sort of keeps his emotions covered up.  

(I finished pressing my dress and admit I was reluctant to unplug my sweet iron. Before reaching for the socket, I promised her that I'd wear my black flowered dress the next day - the one that absolutely needed to be ironed. And I swear that my ironing board did not creak as loudly when I lowered it!)