Gum in the Drum
We're going out with friends tonight. Woohoo! Some semblance of a social life. What to wear? My favorite jeans? In the laundry. My second-favorite pair of jeans? In the laundry. Wait a minute, what about . . . ? Hmm . . . in the laundry. Are you spotting a trend here?
As long as I was awake at 7:30 on my day off, I decided I'd better get some clothes in the wash so my friends aren't embarrassed by their pants-less companion. Things were off to a great start. The clothes were swishing and spinning in the washer as I cleaned up the kitchen and had a little breakfast. After a half hour or so, the clothes went into the dryer.
Do you know how hard it is for 5'8" women to find pants that are long enough? I don't know what taller women do. Maybe they move to warm climates so they can pass off their regular pants as cropped pants or something. Anyway, some of my clothes get pulled out of the dryer after about 20 minutes in an attempt to prevent said croppage.
So as I was pulling things out, I noticed a familiar but not unpleasant scent emanating from the warm dryer. Hmm . . . did we get new cinnamon-scented dryer sheets? No, same old Bounce. Cinnamon Tide? Nope. Hmm . . . I think J.P. had some cinnamon gum the other . . . CRAP! Cinnamon Dentyne Fire. Melted. Smeared all over the dryer drum.
What do you suppose my first thought was? "Why, oh why, didn't I go through our pockets before starting the laundry?" Nope, try again. "Damn that J.P. for not taking that out of his pocket!" Nope. My first thought was "Hey, now I have something to write about today!"
As long as I was awake at 7:30 on my day off, I decided I'd better get some clothes in the wash so my friends aren't embarrassed by their pants-less companion. Things were off to a great start. The clothes were swishing and spinning in the washer as I cleaned up the kitchen and had a little breakfast. After a half hour or so, the clothes went into the dryer.
Do you know how hard it is for 5'8" women to find pants that are long enough? I don't know what taller women do. Maybe they move to warm climates so they can pass off their regular pants as cropped pants or something. Anyway, some of my clothes get pulled out of the dryer after about 20 minutes in an attempt to prevent said croppage.
So as I was pulling things out, I noticed a familiar but not unpleasant scent emanating from the warm dryer. Hmm . . . did we get new cinnamon-scented dryer sheets? No, same old Bounce. Cinnamon Tide? Nope. Hmm . . . I think J.P. had some cinnamon gum the other . . . CRAP! Cinnamon Dentyne Fire. Melted. Smeared all over the dryer drum.
What do you suppose my first thought was? "Why, oh why, didn't I go through our pockets before starting the laundry?" Nope, try again. "Damn that J.P. for not taking that out of his pocket!" Nope. My first thought was "Hey, now I have something to write about today!"
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