Wednesday - May 14, 2008
I should really give my wife credit for a lot of things. One of those things she doesn’t get a lot of credit for is doing the laundry. She has never asked or required that I do any of the household laundry and in return, I have never volunteered or offered to do it.
Recently, I noticed that she has been under a lot of stress. While I may be the main cause of that stress, I make no assumptions and decided that I need to step up and help alleviate some of the daily issues she really doesn’t need to deal with right now.
After years of observation, I deduced that doing the laundry was one of her most time-consuming and frustrating tasks. It’s a never-ending cycle, for as soon as you complete a couple batches of laundry, you’re right back probably doing the same batch over and over again.
I decided that Ron Nagasawa was going to start doing laundry. The thing is, I was going to do it the Ron Nagasawa way. I think that all the sorting of the darks and the whites, the use of hot or cold water is a bunch of nonsense. I’m sure I had ancestors that washed all their clothes in a river or rainwater.
If it was good enough for them, it’s good enough for me. So all the laundry, whites and darks were going to go in the same load and be washed with cold water. In my mind, however, just laundry detergent wasn’t going to cut it. I was going to turbo-charge the wash ingredients.
Kids, don’t try this at home. I figured by adding some bleach and Febreze to the wash, I would get everything extra clean and nice smelling. When I transferred the clothes to the dryer, I used four sheets of Bounce and put it to the hottest setting to dry the load quickly.
I thought to myself, “What’s so hard about doing laundry?” Just as I was taking the finished load out of the dryer, my wife came home. She walked up and asked, “What are you doing?” I explained how I wanted to help out and she gushed, saying how sweet I was.
That lasted for about 30 seconds, as she then looked through all the clothes I had just washed and dried. Many of my wife’s items would now fit a Barbie doll, the whites were now color and the darks had splotches of white. My wife smiled and said, “Thanks for trying, honey.”
I asked, “Did I screw up that bad?” She replied, “Let’s put it this way: Big Brothers & Big Sisters needs to bring a bigger truck the next time we make a clothing donation.”
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