|In my husband's dreams!|
I really hate ironing and for the most part I don't do it. It is boring and hot and frankly I have better things to do with my time.
To quote my mother; "You're a long time dead" to which I have added "So why would you bother ironing?"
With that in mind the ironing policy in our house is as follows:
- My stepsons are old enough to do their own (and so be it if they don't).
- My husband is certainly old enough to do his own.
- My little kids look the same after 10 minutes whether I have ironed their clothes or not.
- I don't buy myself clothes that need to be ironed. Sometimes, when I see a beautiful white linen shirt, that makes me sad but for the most part it is a sacrifice I am more than happy to make.
But when we all go to church on Christmas Day it is important to me that we look nice so on Christmas Eve I have my annual iron fest and iron everyone's clothes for the next day.
That reminds me how stupid it is and how much I hate it and I'm pretty much done for the next year.
In my defence, I am incredibly careful how I bring the clothes in from the line so we don't look too rumpled. I fold the clothes straight away and woe betide the child that play in the baskets of clean washing and gets them crumpled.
I also follow one fantastic piece of advice from Maggie Alderson who, in her SMH column, once said to always peg your t-shirts under the arms so you don't get visible peg marks. She probably doesn't even remember but she rocked my world that day!