Thursday, March 30, 2006


I returned Monday night from a five-day vacation. My husband had done an A+ job of keeping the house running in my absence, and per my request, he had not attempted to do any laundry. Thus, Tuesday morning found me kneeling beside Mt. Laundry. As I pre-treated, sorted and planned my attack, I began to think how very much like laundry people really are. Call it jetlag or a deep philosophical epiphany, but think about it, and you'll see that I'm right.

Take me, for instance. I'm "sturdy, permanent press". I don't need any special handling, you can wash me with just about anything else, at nearly any temperature, and I'll come out OK. I will eventually show some wear and tear, but that will just make me more comfortable and easy to be with.

I have a dear friend that is definitely "delicate". No hot water, no agitation, and no drying in a hot dryer for her. She is lovely, special, and must be treated with kid gloves.

There are people in my life that do best with bleach and hot water. They come out brighter and better with adversity.

Some of my friends are permanently stained. Almost immediately they developed a stubborn spot that no amount of counseling nor meds will ever remove.

What are you?


Terry Whitaker said...

Who's delicate--and what'm I?

Your friend, Kim said...

Where do I fit in with the laundry? I am thinking of what cycle I must be....your thoughts

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