As I mentioned in my last post, I will explain why I hate laundry so much
This is a photo of an old fashioned washing machine, you fill the bucket with water, wash the clothes, and use that wringer part to piece by piece wring out the clothing. After the clothing is washed and wrung out you have to hang it up somewhere to dry...here is my story:
When I was a little girl we used a washing machine just like that one pictured above. It pretty much matched it EXACTLY except ours was green. Once a month ( because that's all the egg donor allowed for water usage) Big Sis and I had to do the laundry for everyone in the house. We had to go to each room, gather all the dirty clothes, bring it to the bathroom, sort it and wash it. We had to do the whites first because if we did the darks first they would get the water too dark and grimy and it would stain the whites....we were only allowed 1 filling of water to wash all the clothing in the house! So we would separate, Big Sis and I trying to make it fun by laughing at the egg donors big grannie panties and all our big brothers boy undies. Big Sis worked extra hard to make it fun for both of us and I appreciated that greatly.
One winter day, I was pulling a pair of jeans out of the grimy, nasty, cold water to wring out. The wringer had already been plugged in and we had wrung out some clothes already that Big Sis was preparing to take outside to hang on the clothesline. I found the last pair of jeans and pulled them out and went to feed them into the wringer when screams rent through the air...it was not Big Sis, it was the evil egg donor. I had neglected to fold the jeans in half before feeding them into the wringer, apparently this was not correct. The egg donor grabbed my hand and as she yelled at me why the wringer needs flat items to go through it she pulled my hand to the wringer. Her words echo in my mind still "See it can't wring out big bulky things, it needs flat things! See how your hand won't go through as a fist? now flatten those fingers or I'll flatten them for you!" I had tried to fight her, tried to not have my hand fed to the wringer, I knew it would hurt me but I also knew if I did not flatten my hand she was going to break every last bone in that hand and feed it to the wringer and so I flattened my hand, tried not to cry as she pushed my fingers against the spinning wheels and my hand was sucked into the wringer all the way to my shoulder. I was screaming in pain when Big Sis pulled the plug to shut it off. She got a beating for interfering but she had probably saved my life so she still says it was worth it. Luckily the wringer could open up and I could get my arm out without having to go through it backwards, but I ended up at the doctors clinic with the egg donor telling him that I had been curious and that it was all an accident. She swore she wasn't in the room when it happened, pulled out her crocodile tears like she was worried about me and he actually believed her! I had a couple broken fingers and a dislocated elbow, skin torn up my underarm and bruising. I was also beaten because my stupidity caused her to have to spend money taking me to the doctor and embarrassment having to explain to that doctor what a stupid little girl she had. Big Sis and I STILL had to take the clothes outside to hang on the line, in the freezing cold. Our fingers were numb with cold (which was actually a good thing for me) and as we warmed up inside afterward Big Sis held me and let me cry. She would stroke my hair and tell me it was going to be ok, that we were strong and we would survive. She always promised our survival and those are the words I clung to day and night!
So that is why I hate laundry...do you think I have a good enough reason??
Enjoy your weekend and remember love your children like you wished you were loved when you were their age!
|From Blogger Pictures|