A Wrinkle In Time

I don't believe in ironing. I just don't. As far as I'm concerned, if an extra fluff in the dryer can't fix it, it's unfixable, and must be worn wrinkled. Anything that regularly requires an iron gets sent to the cleaners.

I do own an iron. Besides the fact that I need it for quilting, I did used to have a job where I needed to look clean and presentable each day, and on occasion I would iron my clothes as I put them on in the morning. For a while I actually had one IN MY OFFICE so that I could iron things after I worked out. I ironed every single DAY! So I do know how to do it. But now that I no longer have to look presentable and stay clean an average of ten minutes after getting dressed, I no longer see the point. I avoid it at all costs. Besides, I hate doing it.

I blame my mother. Ha! No, but really, my mother is an ironing addict. When I was a kid, everything had to be ironed. Jeans were ironed. T-shirts were ironed. Bedsheets - I mean, come on, no one sees the bedsheets, and they're just going to be slept in, but my mother insisted that they be ironed. Recently I told her that she even ironed boxer shorts. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Otherwise they would be wrinkled!" The fact that Boxer shorts are actually underwear was lost on her, apparently. My point is, things that had no business being ironed were ironed. You don't iron clothes you're going to work out in. Or jeans. Or underwear. You just don't. Or rather, I just don't.

Anyway, I took out my iron yesterday for the first time in almost a year to iron a table cloth and some cloth napkins, getting ready for Thanksgiving. I know they'll be a bit wrinkled again by Thursday, but I don't care. Hey, at least I'm USING a tablecloth! That, in and of itself, is a huge deal. And as far as ironing goes, tablecloths and napkins are easy.