Ironing

I do not like to iron clothes.  It’s just a fact of life.  I really dislike it.  I don’t mind doing laundry, folding clothes, and putting them away.  I also don’t mind other household tasks such as scrubbing floors, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the bathroom (including scrubbing the toilet), and even washing windows.  None of this really bothers me.  They are things that have to be done and it is satisfying to see my place shiny and clean when I am finished.

But I do not like to iron clothes.  I know how to do it.  My mom taught me and she was very good at it.  I even have a lot of practice at it since, when I was a teenager, I had to do the laundry for the family and I would iron my dad’s shirts and anything else that needed ironing.  I must have done a good job because my parents never complained about the way things looked (and I would have heard about it if they weren’t satisfied with my work).

Somehow, over the years, I have realized and accepted that I do not like to iron.  It has become a fact.   I will stick something the in dryer to try to remove wrinkles.  I will try to not buy things that need ironing. I even paid my brother-in-law’s sister to do it for me when I was feeling particularly lazy about it.  That’s how much I dislike it.

I was thinking about this the other day and trying to think of a good reason not to do it other than my hatred of it.  (This might have been brought on by the blouse hanging in my bedroom that needs to be ironed…which may be hanging there for quite a while).

Do you know what my mom was doing when John F. Kennedy was shot? She was ironing clothes.

Do you know what my mom was doing when Ronald Reagan was shot? She was ironing clothes.

So I have decided that, in the interest of keeping the president safe, I should not iron clothes.  After all, this might just be a family legacy and we really can’t risk it.  I would feel so bad if I pulled my ironing board out, heated up my iron and set about the task of ironing all the things I own that need to be pressed and something happened to the president.  I don’t think I can live with that kind of guilt.  So, for the safety of the president, I will refrain from ironing clothes.  It’s simply a matter of national security.  How’s that for an excuse????