We have a rather strict division of labor in our house. One of my more onerous duties, if I am home (somehow I usually am when the melodious dryer tune plays) is to take the clothes out of the dryer and put them away. I have nothing to do with the washing of the clothes for a couple of reasons. One of them relates to the fact that washing machines are now more complex than my computer. Thus, I have no idea as to how the various dials are to be set for proper washing. Actually, I do not know how to set the dryer either, but that is another story. Of course, the technical attributes of new dryers and washers are just another example of how mankind benefits from such improvements (womankind benefits in different ways – I am just not certain how!)
The second reason for my not doing the washing is that it is my firm belief that if something is dirty you throw it in the washer and when it is full start it (which as noted above I can’t anyway). However, many years ago when washing machines were simpler, The Blonde in the house warned me not to do any of the washing due to my tendency to throw clothes in the washer without regard to color or composition. One of the most compelling was her stressing that you do not mix whites and colors. I still think that clothes are clothes, but I obey.
Thus you can imagine how stunned I was when I took a big bundle of clothes out of the dryer and found several white capris of hers mixed with colored clothes. I asked The Blonde how this could possibly be. She gave me a mumbled answer which I think had something to do with the grade of the clothes – I didn’t even know that clothes had a grade. What is a poor husband to do when one of the most long standing commandments of married life comes crashing down around him? There is nothing on the internet which even gives a hint. Even Husband’s United (a secret society) has no answer.
I guess that I should not be too surprised. There are all kinds of weird things that happen thanks to technology. For example a friend of ours set what must a world’s record just the other day. It seems that he was out at the Markets of Marion. While trailing after his Blonde in the house, he did a marvelous bit of butt phoning. In a matter of ten to fifteen minutes, he managed to butt phone our land line twice, my mobile phone three times, followed by three straight calls to The Blonde in the house’s mobile phone. This is indisputably a rare trifecta! I will most likely send this occurrence to Guinness to see if it truly is a world’s record.
The only thing I wonder is whether his Blonde permits him to use the washing machine!
Barry Evans writes about Life in The Villages for Villages-News.com
