Laundry Duty

Simply put, I am incapable of understanding how laundry works: In my head, I hear: That will shrink, that needs to be pre-treated, this needs bleach, that has to be dry-cleaned only, that will set the stain, don’t bleach that, dry on hangers-only, cold: not hot, hot: not cold. Delicate Cycle. DELICATE CYCLE, Moron!

And, I freeze.

I am, admittedly, woefully incompetent in the ways of laundry. Woefully.

To compound my difficulty, Isabella, the 6-year-old, is rummaging through my latest efforts.

Iz: What’s this?

Me: A T-shirt.

Iz: And this?

Me: Underwear. Please stop.

Oh, God. We’re going there?

Iz: Hahahaha!

Not gonna stop.

Iz: And this?

Me: A bra. It helps support boobs.

Iz (with a demonic grin): Boobs?

Me: Yes, girls develop breasts, which we sometime call “Boobs.” I don’t understand the snaps or the clasps or the laces or the embroidery. But, bras support a girl’s boobs when she jumps and runs.

Iz: Hee Hee. But… You kinda have boobs, too, Daddy. You’re gonna need one.

Crap.

Me: I’m really not that fat, Honey. But, thanks for your concern.

Iz: Why does Mommy’s have polka-dots?

Me: I don’t know. She likes polka dots, I guess.

Iz Does yours?

Me: Again. I don’t have one.

Iz: Not yet….

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