Laundry 101

I’ve been enrolled in Laundry 101. It’s a class taught by my spouse who is mild mannered most of the time, but her personality turns dark and she can be downright scary when she talks about fabrics, detergents and lint.

It’s kind of like when people get busted for driving drunk and are forced by the authorities to go to driving school. I was forced to attend Laundry School.

It stemmed from an unfortunate outcome from an innocent effort to “help out” around the house while Jilda was feeling puny.

It seems that stuffing the washing machine full of Sunday shirts, boxer shorts, throw rugs, her good sweaters, lingerie (hers), and a pair of work tennis shoes is not a good idea. You would think there would have been a warning on the machine that said something to the effect of “Man Helper — STOP! Go ask a female what goes together before proceeding.” 

I’ve since looked all over that machine and I saw no such warning. 

I thought everything would be fine. The throw rugs did look great, and though my boxers looked a little gnarly, I didn’t consider it an issue because nobody sees them anyhow. 

But when I got to her delicates and sweaters, I started sweating like a fireman wearing long-handle underwear. Everything looked as if it had shrunk two sizes, and the sweater looked like it could use a shave.

Jilda was not amused, so I gave her my Visa card. As she snatched it from my hand, she pointed her finger at me and said, “We’re having a laundry class, mister!” 

We’ve been married for 37 years and you’d think I’d know how to wash clothes, but we’ve always had a clear demarcation point beyond which neither of us normally crossed. 

I do the yard work. It doesn’t matter if I have deadlines and work stacked as high as the refrigerator. When the grass needs cutting, I cut it. If there’s a problem with her car, I handle it.

On the other hand, she does the laundry, the cooking, and she’s the keeper of the calendar. We share dishwasher duty and gardening.

This arrangement has worked perfectly for us in the past, but that changed this year when she started taking treatments to boost her immune system. There were days she simply didn’t feel like doing much. 

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to hire someone to come in and do the laundry, or take it someplace where they knew how to do clothes.

But I’m one of those problem-solver guys. I see a problem, and I charge in full speed ahead. That’s OK when I’m fixing lawnmowers or getting rid of a yard full of sand spurs, but I’ve since learned that it’s a wise man who knows his limitations.

Laundry 101 class starts tomorrow and I’m worried. From what little I’ve learned so far, doing laundry is like programming on a supercomputer. If this condition exists, then do this, otherwise do this, twice. 

If the clothes are colored, then NEVER do this, and never mix dark and light. Bleach is ONLY used.........you get the picture. I know the women out there think I’m a simpleton, but I’m not looking forward to this class.

I’m wondering if I should take the teacher a big shiny apple..