I Hate Ironing

I hate ironing, somehow I iron more wrinkles in to the clothes, than out of it. I distinctly know why I hate ironing.............it has to do with the blue basket.
My mom had a "basket", a hamper where we'd put all the clothes to be ironed. I soon found out the hamper was never emptied, and clothes sat in that hamper forever. Never to be worn, very soon forgotten. The hamper sat on top of a closet in the washroom (bathroom), out of sight, out of mind, I can visualize it right now... Maybe its in my genes. My sister (although she won't admit it), told me she dry cleans clothes just so she doesn't have to iron them. And when she DOES gets that bundle of dry cleaning back, she wears them Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday....just so she doesn't have to iron.

After I married David, I learned there were "steam", "mist" and "spray" options. How should I know these existed if I've never ironed? I just do what everyone else does. Iron a bit, and pretend your blouse got wrinkled by the seat belt in the car ride in the morning...or on the train.... or anywhere else.

I once was lazy and asked David to help me iron a top because I was "late" (yeah, yeah, yeah). Little did I know, he'd iron wrinkles in to the top and creat black smudges from the starch left on the iron. Well maybe that's why we're married. The moral of the story is to buy "non-iron" clothes, dry clean, or just "pretend" you don't see the wrinkles.