My Laundry Is Giving Me Wrinkles

It’s Tuesday and Toronto just got hit with a humidex advisory. I am all for fresh air, but if the air in question feels like it’s over 40 degrees (that’s 104 for any Americans out there), then I am opting out. Apparently we’re just starting off a three day heat wave which makes me VERY grateful that we just had the air conditioner serviced and given a clean bill of health.
Not so for Monkey, who is home again today, running a slight fever and coughing like 70 year old lifetime smoker. He’s raspy and phlegmy and a bit lethargic but otherwise in good spirits. Not so for his cooped up mummy.
Opting out of the great outdoors is one thing, but being forced to stay in and endure the incessant drone of cartoons or youtube videos is more than a little nerve wracking when you’re supposed to be working. On top of that, I have realized that I can no longer ignore the laundry that is piling up. Cue the wrinkles.
I have mentioned before that I live in a house full of men. I have not mentioned before that they smell. Oh, I realize that it’s not their fault. They bathe regularly (even though we have to sometimes threaten Mini Me with loss of computer privileges if he doesn’t get in the shower RIGHT NOW!!), and generally don’t get very dirty. But…
Maybe it’s this whole perimenopause thing, but I seem to have developed the nose of a blood hound. I remember being like this during my pregnancies, when certain smells could cause me to dry heave. As it turns out, the dry heaving has not returned, but I have been seriously tempted to put a clothes pin on my nose to avoid the smells that emanate from the dirty laundry. I can feel myself frowning and wrinkling my nose, my whole face scrunched up as I sort through sweaty shirts and stinky socks, not to mention anything Monkey wears on his lower half, because he still has some problems with drippage (to put it kindly). Ugh.
It has gotten to the point where I have to consciously talk myself into relaxing my facial muscles because if there is one iota of truth to the “Make a face and you’ll stick that way” story, then I am screwed. Maybe I should burn some incense in the laundry room to distract myself of maybe I should put sachets of potpourri in the laundry hampers. Of course, the easiest thing would be to have them sort their own damned laundry. Hmmm. Now there’s a thought. Okay, I am off to look at laundry room organizational tools at IKEA. Muppet can’t complain about me buying new, fancy hampers if it’s for the sake of my sanity and to keep my face from prematurely ageing. Right? Right!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s