Skip to main content

Laundry

My gifts and talents are many and varied. I know it is not polite to boast about your own strengths but this one is one to be admired from afar. Although my husband and children would not agree with this, I do have a gift of listening and discerning. To be more specific, I know what's in the dryer. This has come from my years of vast experience doing laundry.

I can tell from the "clunks" and "thuds" what offending object is in the dryer. I can tell if it is a quarter, nickel, dime, or penny. I can predict any combination of the above. I can discern the size of the rock or wood chip. I have even finally figured out that the softer "clump" sound that doesn't seem to be offending could, in fact, be a red crayon. Multiple "clumps" mean that someone shoved a whole handful into his pockets.

I have also figured out a rating system. Small change and rocks is an irritating but harmless sound. Crayons of any color require running to the dryer, throwing open the door, and digging through until all sounds except a zipper can be heard when the dryer is on. We are now the proud owners of a beautiful multi-colored down comforter that used to be an eggshell color at one time.

Yesterday I heard a new sound. There are two schools of thought on dryer sounds; 1) freak out and find out what it is 2) think, "If I haven't heard THAT before, I'm sure it will do no harm." I liked the latter approach. It turns out, I was right.

You may ask, "What is a fork doing in the laundry, anyway?" I have to admit, this did not cross my mind. When doing laundry for four children, you never know what you will find.

I also can't help but wonder if this had something to do with it.


What is the strangest thing you've found while doing laundry?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Braces!

13 year old got braces today! She also had a little helper on her.

They Call Me Grace

I was nearly 8 years old when my baby sister was born. This was quite fortunate since I was well adept at reading. I was tired of my name. Nancy. So plain. The Sunday comics included a comic strip called Nancy. She hung out with her stupid little boyfriend named Russell, was very boring and cried all the time. Why would parents who love their child name her such a boring name? I assumed they had run out of originality by this point. I was, after all, their third child. There was Mike, then Suzy, after me they had Joey (short for Joanne) and finally Jene Marie. The "j" a soft French slur. It was fitting. We had a French surname. But clearly Jene Marie was their crowning glory. Do I hate for taking all the love from my parents and hogging it for herself? Of course not. She's my sister. She's my baby sister. But if I happen to feel the need to speak to her when she's at work, I always ask for her by using both names; Jene Marie (with the schwa). I don't want her...

I am being published!

I know! It just reeks of excitement, doesn't it?  I know what you are thinking. "Who would publish that woman's thoughts?" The answer is a lovely little outfit called www.blog2print.com. In other words, I haven't been discovered. I am no closer to being a published author than I was yesterday EXCEPT that by Christmas I will be the proud owner of my very own blog book! I know. It's a little anticlimactic but here's the cool part. My friend, Becki, found me entertaining and directed me to a blog called www.josikilpack.blogspot.com.  She posted a little coupon code for 20% off which was supposed to end last week. Apparently, the code is still good and I saved $14. That said, you know it isn't exactly the cheapest way to get published but it's the best price I could find on publishing my blog!  And it requires very little technical know-how.  And that, my friends, tickles my heart. And, for a small price of your integrity and dignity, I will share the ...