I don't like ironing clothes.
And I don't like putting them away in drawers and wardrobes.
I also don't like cooking, and dish washing, and toilet-cleaning.
So what does that say about my day today?
Frustrating and exhausting.
I ironed clothes while Jose Mari Chan was on YouTube singing that sad christmas song. I nearly burst into tears. Not because of the song, but because I just felt sorry for myself. I iron clothes once a month so you can just imagine how I was dwarfed by piles of babygros and shirts, trousers and jeans. And bloody bedsheets. I have never done ironing in industrial proportion back in the Philippines. And here in this sodding first-world country I.am.ironing.everybody's.clothes. And putting them away as well, which is worse. It's like Maths for kids. All husband's shirts on hangers. All husband's long-sleeved shirts on more hangers. All husband's t-shirts on one pile. All husband's jumpers on another pile. And on and on and on. Then there are more clothes for the two kids which have to be sorted in different piles as well. And socks. It's hell. There are 3 pairs of socks worn everyday. When they go in the washing, they decide to go separate ways and when they dry I could never match them up again!
After I read the boys' bedtime stories, I went on my hands and knees to clean the bathrooms. Then my husband called me on the phone saying that 'there's a situation'. For a moment I thought, god, he's going to bring home another baby and I'd get more clothes to wash and iron, or, oh no, his parents are finally moving with us and there will be MORE clothes to iron. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he said, 'I have loads of potatoes and they need to be washed - in the bath - because the kitchen sink is too small for this lot'. I moaned. 'But I just disinfected the bath!' He said, 'don't worry, I'll clean up'.
After bathing his potatoes, he kissed the boys goodnight, got out of the room, went downstairs and sat down in front of his computer. Before I could get in the bathroom to check, he said, 'don't freak out'. So I peeped through the crack of the door. The disinfected, glistening white tiled floor 15 minutes ago is now muddy. Mudbleedingdy.
I turned off Jose Mari Chan. I closed YouTube. I closed my eyes.
And I don't like putting them away in drawers and wardrobes.
I also don't like cooking, and dish washing, and toilet-cleaning.
So what does that say about my day today?
Frustrating and exhausting.
I ironed clothes while Jose Mari Chan was on YouTube singing that sad christmas song. I nearly burst into tears. Not because of the song, but because I just felt sorry for myself. I iron clothes once a month so you can just imagine how I was dwarfed by piles of babygros and shirts, trousers and jeans. And bloody bedsheets. I have never done ironing in industrial proportion back in the Philippines. And here in this sodding first-world country I.am.ironing.everybody's.clothes. And putting them away as well, which is worse. It's like Maths for kids. All husband's shirts on hangers. All husband's long-sleeved shirts on more hangers. All husband's t-shirts on one pile. All husband's jumpers on another pile. And on and on and on. Then there are more clothes for the two kids which have to be sorted in different piles as well. And socks. It's hell. There are 3 pairs of socks worn everyday. When they go in the washing, they decide to go separate ways and when they dry I could never match them up again!
After I read the boys' bedtime stories, I went on my hands and knees to clean the bathrooms. Then my husband called me on the phone saying that 'there's a situation'. For a moment I thought, god, he's going to bring home another baby and I'd get more clothes to wash and iron, or, oh no, his parents are finally moving with us and there will be MORE clothes to iron. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he said, 'I have loads of potatoes and they need to be washed - in the bath - because the kitchen sink is too small for this lot'. I moaned. 'But I just disinfected the bath!' He said, 'don't worry, I'll clean up'.
After bathing his potatoes, he kissed the boys goodnight, got out of the room, went downstairs and sat down in front of his computer. Before I could get in the bathroom to check, he said, 'don't freak out'. So I peeped through the crack of the door. The disinfected, glistening white tiled floor 15 minutes ago is now muddy. Mudbleedingdy.
I turned off Jose Mari Chan. I closed YouTube. I closed my eyes.
I took out the gun lodged in my brain and shot the iron to smithereens.
6 comments:
I hate ironing and that's all i did yesterday too. Argh.
Oh Soy, this is our exchange in leaving our homeland for first world living, we do every household chores. yes, i hope that you get successful in training your husband the art of domesticity. it helps a lot.
I can relate to this story. This is one of my usual rants and whines. And talking about husbands.... I can go on and on and on for hours but trust me... it's easier to teach the kids. hahahaha.
di ko alam kung matatawa or maiiyak ako sa post mo...but you still made it sound funny Soy. Love your style of writing talaga. And yeah, hope the husband learns the art soon. I've given up on mine, buti nalang may anak akong girl
i have mountains of iroing too, because Marghie does it when she is here.She's in spain and anjo doesnt help.
I iron only what I wear and the two men in the house does the same.
Its getting cold now in Nice, 15°and the socks sorting will soon to come.
Haay, buhay...Kikay cannot help!
the same situition at my house soy. minsan iniisip ko hanap na lang kaya ako milyonaryo...hehehe.
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