Friends, this small town girl sure felt like she was in a lonely world today. But I never gave up hope. I just held onto the lyrics of my song and believed the stains would come out.
We have to switch Airbnbs this weekend, so I wanted to get ahead of the laundry. I was feeling good–proactive and on top of this mobile life we have right now.
I navigated down the narrow stairwell and out three security doors without dropping the laundry basket full of dirty clothes. I landed a pole position spot at the laundromat. I even remembered to get the detergent out without having to go back to the van to get it.
I was zoned in, folks! Boss time.
Sorted those clothes out, had all my quarters in piles and started three loads. I had enough for lights, darks and towels.
This is when disaster struck.
I was so focused on not touching his nasty, sweaty balled up PT clothes that I totally missed that my new pink Journey shirt was in the basket. (My fellow Army wives give me a shout out because you know how smelly those clothes after they ferment for a day or two. ) The stink was strong and in a moment of weakness, I let that untested shirt go in the light load.
OK, machines are going and I’m off to walk to the PX food court to get some lunch and to cash a check at the cashier’s cage. Why cash a check? Because my ATM card was already hacked and the replacement hasn’t arrived and I need money to buy Bocelli tickets for the concert in Verona. That’s a whole other blog. Wait for it.
Cash in hand. I’m feeling great about going with a new friend to buy the tickets. I’m hardly aware as I open the lid to the machine with the light load.
DISASTER!
My white pants were pink. His favorite shirt had splotchy pink stains on it. Our underwear was closer to red.
Now keep in mind, I’ve maybe let this happen twice in 25 years of marriage. But not long before we left Maryland Jerry ruined a new shirt of mine. In hindsight, after today’s disaster, I realize I may have been harsh with him. I pretty much lost it. It was expensive and I loved it and he ruined it. So, I immediately realize I’ve showed him my underbelly and I’m defenseless. He’ll be able to hold this over my head for the next 25 years. Le sigh.
I quickly text my friend that I have to stay and try to get this out. I run to the PX and buy all the Oxi-clean, Clorox and Shout they have on the shelf. Whew, man, that was expensive.
With a prayer and another stack of quarters, I start the wash load on cold. I cross my fingers. I say a prayer. I start negotiating with God. I promise to never get mad at Jerry again over the laundry. Never, ever. Basic stuff from my Laundry Negotiations 101 HomeEc class.
I won’t make you journey with me from load one to load two and finally to load three. But I never gave up. I believed I would leave that laundromat with white pants and I did!
Small town girls still know how to get out of a jam.
1017 Days in Italy 