Laundry Is For Losers

I thought that perhaps I might feel a little better if I cleaned. So, I started off with my list of tiny detail-cleaning. You know, the stuff we most often overlook and even after cleaning, you can’t really tell that you’ve done much (but if you neglect it, you’ll definitely notice)? And, then at the bottom of that list was: bleach the dingy comforter.

Let me get something straight, here. I almost NEVER use bleach. And, the comforter was clean. It was just …yellowed. It’s supposed to be white. So, I thought giving the over-sized heavy duty Company Store white(ish) down comforter a bleach bath would be a great option. I filled the tub with hot water, brought the bleach in from the garage, and poured a large dose in. And, then I brought in the comforter and dumped it in the bath. Occasionally, I’d pop back in the bathroom just to “stir” the comforter around, making sure the bleach water was evenly distributed and trying to somehow drown my gleeful comforter that smirked from the ugly grey-blue confines of my tub. With the bottom of my hairbrush, I’d poke it down once more until I was satisfied with the amount of water it’d soaked in.

After a couple of hours of laborious waiting (and cleaning), I dumped out gathered a laundry basket and then made my way into the bathroom, where I spent the next half hour trying to rinse the comforter and then squeeze out every last droplet of water. With the basket situated beside the tub, I carefully transferred the still sopping wet (despite my attempts) comforter to the basket.

I slipped on my flip flops and even some shorts as to not send any of my neighbors into heart attacks. I located the step ladder and took it outside, carefully situating it beneath the laundry line that had been put up by the previous owners (more than 3 years ago). I went back inside and grabbed the basket. I maneuvered through the house with my 40 lb basket, careful not to break anything - including my ankle. Once outside, I set that too down beside the step-ladder. I mentally did a few quick calculations and moved the basket once more. I carefully found my footing on the step-ladder, knowing that the incredibly heavy (soaking wet) comforter could easily topple me over. And, as much as a broken arm might be, I have really enjoying my “no broken bones” streak over the past 22 years. That, and a broken bone might put a cramp in the finances. Probably. Unless I let Uncle John or my FIL fix it used duct tape, of course. Very carefully, I slung the corner of the weighted comforter over my shoulder, grabbing the other corner and gently folding it over the line. Yes. Almost there. Next corner. Done. Now, I knew that all I would have to do was tug the corners down to ensure the bottom wouldn’t drag the ground. I was quite satisfied with myself and my job well done…until, of course…I noticed it.

Brown streaks all across the comforter. Shit. The line was dirty.

Laundry is for losers, and apparently…

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