There I am in the paper #18

Mother of the year…Not!
Here is my latest column from the Irish Examiners Feelgood supplement.

Most of us held our children as new-born babies and made solemn promises to be the best parents they could wish for. Unfortunately, I’ve discovered life gets in the way of that promise, but I like to think it’s the thought that counted.

After two decades parenting my children, they have yet to believe, even for a few moments, that I am Mother Of The Year material. In my defence I tried, but things can go very wrong.

Take last week for example.

For a week I’d been looking at a full laundry basket of dark clothes. I could have washed them any day, but I didn’t. Among the many items were work clothes for one member of my family who would not require them until Saturday.photo credit: IvanClow <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22146904@N04/4201955402"></a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/">(license)</a> “Lots of time,” I thought every day as I ignored its overflowing contents. Except there wasn’t, because three days before my imagined deadline the worker announced,

“I’ve been asked to work tonight. Is my uniform clean?”

“What? No, not tonight?” As I apologised profusely the worker hid her dismay well.

I could have left it there, allowed her go to work in an unclean uniform, but no, being the wonderful, caring, kind mother I am, I decided, as there were a full two hours to go before she had to leave, I’d hand wash everything and put them in the dryer. Wouldn’t that be a lovely surprise?

So I dug out her work clothes from the bottom of the overflowing basket and had a look at them. Maybe I’d only wash the one item that was the worse for wear? No, in for a penny, in for a pound, I’d do the lot. So I filled the sink, adding a little too much washing powder so there were suds aplenty, and I scrubbed and rinsed and squeezed until my fingers cramped. Yet despite my ringing and squeezing everything remained soaked. A tiny worry crept over me as I glanced at the clock. One hour forty five minutes to go. Was this possible?
Of course, why not spin the soaking clothes in the washing machine? That would surely take the wet off them before finishing them off in the dryer?

So I pressed the spin cycle on the machine and went about my business. Minutes later I passed by only to discover the uniform was indeed spinning, but in a machine full of water. I’d pressed a full wash programme in error.

Panic was beginning to affect my breathing. I’d to wait an eternity for the water to empty, before pouncing tohoto credit: Corie Howell <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/53628108@N00/3307593669">[365] 036</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">(license)</a> turning the machine off, and another minute for the door to open. I wondered at the strength of my deodorant as my body temperature rose to fever pitch, while all the time an inner voice deafened me, “You’re dead when she finds out.”

Finally I removed the clothes. If it were possible they were now even wetter than before entering the machine. There was all of one hour thirty minutes left to discovery. Surely a dryer can dry four items of clothing in that time?

Well in case any of you are ever in this self same position let me make you fully aware that no, a dryer cannot. As the worker came face to face with the hot, sodden clothes I had to confess what I’d done.

I’d like to tell you she had a clean spare but by the look on her face I suspect she had not. I’d also like to tell you I hung around to find out what substituted, but again I cannot as immediately after my confession I hid until she was gone.

But surely it was the thought that counts?

hoto credit: Corie Howell [365] 036 via photopin (license)
London Irish Graduate Network
photo credit: IvanClow via photopin (license)

Advertisements

13 thoughts on “There I am in the paper #18

    1. Yahoo. Always good to know I am making you laugh. It’s one of those moments we can laugh at afterwards. Well I can anyway, but she’s getting there. 🙂

  1. Was feeling the panic reading that, tric. You know that’s not advisable at my age. Or on Mondays. In case it should ever happen again – my Mother swears by throwing a big dry towel in to absorb the moisture and speed up the process. Household tip sharing. Look how intimate we have become.

    1. Where was this life saving tip when I needed it? Some blog buddy you.Horse…bolted and all that!
      If my heart kept going on the day I think you’ll be okay.
      I’m almost over it thank you…not sure she’s doing as well. 🙂

Comments are always welcome.

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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