Tuesday, March 21, 2006
{ 2:10 AM }
I will never underestimate the work done by my housekeeper (nicer term ok), or any housekeeper for that matter, ever again. I had the task of ironing my clothes today. I didn't have much of a choice you know, it's either iron clothes or walk around looking like Ms. Frump de frump frump. As the name itself states, ironing, in my dictionary, is derived from the word irony haha. And indeed it lives up to its name. The irony of ironing. Washing, nyeh not so much of a hassle just press a few buttons dump in the detergent and you're all set. Ironing takes patience and a whole lot of back bending action, so much to the point my back actually hurts. And I have to iron only for my own clothes, imagine my 'aunty' who has to iron, wash, cook and clean after us all. Wah lao eh (no harm throwing in a few slangs)! The plus side of it was that I, to some weird, demented extent, found it quite satisfying. Ironing out the creases felt so good. My pants originally were co crumpled and wrinkled, worse than any grandaddy's face. After I ironed them, they looked so wearable. It was just very satisfying la, those of you who don't do housework probably wouldn't know a thing about what I'm talking about. A guy friend and I were on the topic of cleaning up and I was jokingly taunting him that he'd look so girly doing his laundry and ironing his clothes and all that. I didn't mean it la, but in my taunt I pointed out that there was an element of humour la. I mean imagine a guy (not friend by the way) wearing a red and white polka dotted apron, or a french maid's uniform for the more imaginative of you, armed with a vacuum cleaner and a bandana. Funny or not? If you think it's not funny, you really need to look for your sense of humour it seems to be missing. Anyway, surprisingly he told me he doesn't iron his clothes and inside I was screaming "omg omg how can you not iron your clothes? Won't they be crinkly and not presentable?" in reality I calmly posed the question "Oh, your clothes won't be crumpled meh?". I think he said no, and I didn't see a point in further pursuing the topic. Come to think of it I would like to know what material his clothes were made of, I don't mind buying clothes made of material X from now on as satisfying as ironing can be. Life can do without it.Oh and another thought popped into my mind while ironing. How nice it would be to just iron my wrinkles away, when (yes, sadly 'when' I wish 'if' were an option) I'm old. Oh wait, in reality it's called botox or a face lift, whichever you please.That concludes today's Housekeeping for bimboes (or is it bimbos).
Have a great one.
michelle