Saturday, August 11, 2007

I is for Iron

I wanted this to be for ice cream ( a serious love food in our house), but I thought rather than bore you with our cellulite-growing experiment, I would share my funny ironing story with you. When I was making the Take Out/Anti-Take Out apron for Amy's Tie One On, I had to use the iron for pressing down some seams. My 2nd son came into the room and gasped, exclaiming, "Mom! You know how to use that thing?!"

I guess I don't iron very much. My husband does about 98% of the ironing in our house. Only when I do crafting do I really iron. Yes, I know how to use it, and I don't really mind ironing. It's sort of comforting and 'exciting' to see all the wrinkles conquered, the smell of starch, the puff and sizzle of the steam as it escapes from the iron, but I am thankful I don't have a pressing need to do this every day.

2 comments:

kirsten schueler said...

that is a cute story. one you will tell to his wife when he gets married! i know my mom told every story she could think of to my husband! it was a night of laughter for sure.
i used to have a steamer and there is a lot of satifaction in watching those wrinkles disappear!

ellen said...

I love that story..it reminds me of two things:My sons would always ask me where I was going, or who was coming over when they saw me brush my hair. For crying outloud...did they really believe I never brushed my hair on "normal" days? The other story concerns ironing..when I was about to pop out my second baby, I was pressing a pair of pants and a top I had just made. I was standing there in my underwear, when I heard a slight sizzle..I had run the iron across my very large belly and burned it. I sported a long white blister for quite a while. No wonder I hate to iron!