Somebody Stop Me!!!

There are words that should never leave the mouth of certain Sheep. Things like, "I simply must get around to organizing my handcuff collection" spring to mind. Or, "You must excuse me as it is time for my weekly high colonic." These are things that you will never hear me say. Or if you do, then I have been taken over by aliens or zombies and you are to shoot me immediately.

But the words that I spoke today are, by far, the oddest. I'm not saying that this is one of those things that should send you scampering off for the family firearms or anything. We are not at that stage of panic yet. I am reasonably sure that this is just a phase of some sort, fueled by the giddiness brought on by having something new. But I am concerned. In some kind of out of body moment, I floated above my form and heard myself utter this:

I don't want to be at school today. I just want to stay home and iron things.


I know...this is not good. Not good at all. I am not one who is normally brought to my knees by the pressing of garments. I don't shudder at the sight of the wrinkles. I actually hate creases in my pants. In fact, I pretty much hate anything that relates to housework in any way, shape or form.

And ironing, for crying out loud? I am not good at ironing. Frankly, I tend to press more wrinkles into the item than I smooth out. But, sadly, it is a necessity. I have clothing storage issues. I have nowhere to hang things since The Great Closet Collapse of '96 and there is little hope of my remembering to remove things from the dryer in anything less than 48 hours of it's having successfully completing the drying process.

So, I iron. I've never enjoyed it, though. But, after yesterday's memorial service for the dear, departed iron from my college days and the hasty purchase of my drugstore iron, I have a renewed appreciation for this timeless art. It is exhilarating! It gets really, really hot and this truly speaks to my love of danger and possible injury. Then, just when you least expect it, it makes this delightful, "shhwwwwwp" sound and clouds appear as if I'm in heaven or something. I have consulted the manual on this and it seems that this is, "steam." And it is supposed to do this! I mean, honestly! Can you believe how far they have come in ironing technology? My old iron never did this!!

Now, the wrinkles that I press into my helpless trousers are crisp and smell like fabric softener! And the steam has just done wonders for my pores. I am a new woman, I tellya! I'm not saying that I necessarily love this new woman...she's a little obsessed with the ironing. But, I think she'll settle down a bit once the newness wears off.

All this ironing has taken its toll on the sock knitting, though. Poor little sock #2 has had to wait patiently for this phase to pass. It has really been quite good about the whole thing. I'm finding that Socks That Rock, despite its hard-core kinda name, is really pretty classy, overall. It knows its worth. And I think it knows that any other fancies are of a, "passing" nature.

Good thing. 'Cuz I'm feeling an overwhelming urge to iron the bedsheets...

Yesssss, my preciousssss...Momma loves you!

Send Valium. I beg of you.

SA