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R. Linda:
Last week me wife had been on the go. Busy she be after me sainted parents and cousin left. A month of watching me Mam take over was too much for me darling and so off to a spa she took herself to "recover." She told me first she had several loads of wash to do before Friday, and if she didn't do it, we'd be out of everything, and therefore, she should not indulge herself. But I know if it were me putting up with her sainted parents and one or two long lost cousins, I'd be in need of a rest too. So with that in mind, I told her to go, I'd be just fine doing the wash.
Of course, she gave me a parting shot about men being incapable of doing the laundry and such. I be used to sending out me shirts and suits, so she assumed I wouldn't know the first thing on what cycle one puts suits in the washer. Worse do you hang them to air dry, or use that wonderful permanent press cycle on the dryer? Simply put I did not know. I could read the washer/dryer manual, but I read all day and that's the last thing I wanted to do is come home blurry eyed with a magnifying glass and decipher the small print in the manuals.
Easier to just hang the suits and shirts up and wear 'em again. With that in mind I went about me day never thinking beyond the shirts and suits. Did I mention she was going for an entire week? Her parents had given her a week at a spa for Christmas. What did I get? I got a week of coupons for Burger King. And our wee Airport? He got a week at me mother-in-law's while his Mam luxuriated at spa and his Da did the wash and ate burgers. Right. Did I mention the spa was in New Jersey along with the mother-in-law? Yup, both of me family was on their way south and here I be with the dirty laundry in snowy Alaska, I mean New Hampshire.
With all that in mind, I went about me week. Every night I'd come home from work, put on me jeans and me fav ratty old tee shirt that I can't wear when Tonya be about the place. Or, kick back with me take out bag of burgers and fries, flip open a cold one and enjoy me meal with a bag of crisps and all the other junk I love (but am forbidden). Happy as a clam I was.
After indulging in all the sports programmes I be not given a chance to watch when sweetie is at home, I'd get me Jim Jams on (pyjamas to you) and kick back with an after dinner Jameson and those grand chocolate chip cookies I picked up from the bakery for the week. I had two dozen of the big cookies and enjoyed them with me whiskey I did, dipping them in the amber liquid and savouring them on me tongue. Ummm! Only problem, was I was full of crumbs and spilt whiskey from getting excitable about the games I was watching on the telly. So before Friday, I was out of Jim Jams. And, it was too cold to sleep in the buff.
I rang up me Tonya and asked her what to do. I should have saved meself the trouble for the sarcastic words that found their way to me ear. I could even hear her lip curl as she said them. Why hadn't I at least started the wash? What the hell was I doing up there?
It was 11 at night and I wasn't about to venture to the washer. Why? I'd have to sort clothes and I have no idea about darks, colours and whites. Not only that, the soiled laundry wasn't in me job description. This I told her when I could get a word in. Finally, with a great sigh she informed me that there was the lilac scrubs that were an X-large laying on the top of the dresser in the guest room. I could wear those she said, only I would have to wash them first to get out the "sizing." OR, since I was going to have to do the wash ANYWAY, I might as well sort me laundry, throw me existing jammies in and be done with it.
Now a note about those lilac scrubs. Scrubs me Tonnie has taken to sleeping in. She finds they keep her warm enough, comfy enough and she rather likes them. I call her Dr. Tonnie when she dons these lovely outfits. Yes, if she were going to perform surgery I might get turned on, but when you feel like your surgeon is sleeping with you, the excitement fades. Yes, it does. Think about it.
Anyway, me sainted Mam thought to get me Tonya in the O'Sullivan Christmas Eve tradition of buying new jammies to sleep in that night. Me Mam has done this since I can remember and many Irish families who could afford it did it too. It's an ingenious way to get the kiddies to shut up about opening a present on Christmas Eve. I told me Mam that Ton liked the scrubs and after a very bizarre discussion (on me Mam'a part) on Ton's choice of sleep wear (I think the word fetish was thrown about), she decided to get her femme ones, thus, the lilac colour, and where she found scrubs in that colour I do not know and did not ask. Only one thing, me Ton is not an XL. No, she be a medium. But me Mam thought she'd like roomy pj's and so she got the XL size. I will save you the joy of Ton opening them Christmas Eve afternoon and jump to the fact, that needless to say, she did NOT wear them. So unwashed they remained in the gift box.
Back to present day, yours truly was not about to sort wash, or do any kind of wash at 11 at night. So knowing I be alone I went to the gift box, took the offending scrubs out and well, I put them on I did. You don't know how foolish I felt in lilac. Scrubs no less. But no one was about so I went to bed wearing them. I did not throw them in the light wash cycle to get out the stiff sizing, no I did not. I didn't have need to throw them in the dryer to soften them up either, so that was that. Or, at least I thought until this morning.
The smell of coffee brewing woke yours truly from a delicious dream of being locked in a candy store with Pamela Anderson pouring caramel all over her naked body. It took a lot for me to throw off the dream and stagger into the kitchen. There in me groggy haze was me sainted Tonya making breakfast. She turned around to say something about coffee when she stopped with spatula in the air looking at me aghast. I was admiring how glowing she looked from her spa stay, but more importantly I was focused in on the delicious banana pancakes on the griddle, before I noticed her look of alarm.
"What?" I asked.
She put the spatula down, turned off the heat and came rushing over to me. She held me face in her hands and moved me head around, then she lifted up me scrub top and her eyes got big and I thought for one male moment we were about to have an exciting time of me playing doctor on top of the kitchen table, but it wasn't me who was the doctor it was HER!
"Gabe, YOU are covered in rash!"
Well, as you can imagine that did the moment for me. I rushed to the bathroom mirror and sure enough me face was a blotchy mess. Not only me face, everywhere the scrubs covered but me forearms, were covered in red dots. Me face because me hands had touched it after touching the scrubs, it was the sizing, I was allergic!
There was nothing to be done! She got me out of the lilac scrubs, into the shower while she stripped the bed sheets, took the offending scrubs and to the wash she went. I never did get breakfast. Instead, I got a cold cereal bar that came with the morning newspaper and a lukewarm cup of coffee. There I sat chewing slowly, me face red from not only rash, but embarrassment for me laziness. I be going to put the Cort-aid on me dots when Ton came upstairs from starting the wash. Yup, the wash I never did. She should be down there for a few months and she has the Cort-aid, it be in the laundry bathroom where I left it when I cut meself on fooling with making a show of using the axe grinding machine a while back. Sigh.
Begorrah me, never will I wear right out of the box anything. I have learned me lesson and have been studying how the washer/dryer works. Yup, Tonya gave me the manuals, told me it was required reading material. Yes, me punishment is doing the wash over the next few weeks. She be starting it off with the sorting, then it's ALL up to me to get it all washed and dried. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2006 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Last week me wife had been on the go. Busy she be after me sainted parents and cousin left. A month of watching me Mam take over was too much for me darling and so off to a spa she took herself to "recover." She told me first she had several loads of wash to do before Friday, and if she didn't do it, we'd be out of everything, and therefore, she should not indulge herself. But I know if it were me putting up with her sainted parents and one or two long lost cousins, I'd be in need of a rest too. So with that in mind, I told her to go, I'd be just fine doing the wash.
Of course, she gave me a parting shot about men being incapable of doing the laundry and such. I be used to sending out me shirts and suits, so she assumed I wouldn't know the first thing on what cycle one puts suits in the washer. Worse do you hang them to air dry, or use that wonderful permanent press cycle on the dryer? Simply put I did not know. I could read the washer/dryer manual, but I read all day and that's the last thing I wanted to do is come home blurry eyed with a magnifying glass and decipher the small print in the manuals.
Easier to just hang the suits and shirts up and wear 'em again. With that in mind I went about me day never thinking beyond the shirts and suits. Did I mention she was going for an entire week? Her parents had given her a week at a spa for Christmas. What did I get? I got a week of coupons for Burger King. And our wee Airport? He got a week at me mother-in-law's while his Mam luxuriated at spa and his Da did the wash and ate burgers. Right. Did I mention the spa was in New Jersey along with the mother-in-law? Yup, both of me family was on their way south and here I be with the dirty laundry in snowy Alaska, I mean New Hampshire.
With all that in mind, I went about me week. Every night I'd come home from work, put on me jeans and me fav ratty old tee shirt that I can't wear when Tonya be about the place. Or, kick back with me take out bag of burgers and fries, flip open a cold one and enjoy me meal with a bag of crisps and all the other junk I love (but am forbidden). Happy as a clam I was.
After indulging in all the sports programmes I be not given a chance to watch when sweetie is at home, I'd get me Jim Jams on (pyjamas to you) and kick back with an after dinner Jameson and those grand chocolate chip cookies I picked up from the bakery for the week. I had two dozen of the big cookies and enjoyed them with me whiskey I did, dipping them in the amber liquid and savouring them on me tongue. Ummm! Only problem, was I was full of crumbs and spilt whiskey from getting excitable about the games I was watching on the telly. So before Friday, I was out of Jim Jams. And, it was too cold to sleep in the buff.
I rang up me Tonya and asked her what to do. I should have saved meself the trouble for the sarcastic words that found their way to me ear. I could even hear her lip curl as she said them. Why hadn't I at least started the wash? What the hell was I doing up there?
It was 11 at night and I wasn't about to venture to the washer. Why? I'd have to sort clothes and I have no idea about darks, colours and whites. Not only that, the soiled laundry wasn't in me job description. This I told her when I could get a word in. Finally, with a great sigh she informed me that there was the lilac scrubs that were an X-large laying on the top of the dresser in the guest room. I could wear those she said, only I would have to wash them first to get out the "sizing." OR, since I was going to have to do the wash ANYWAY, I might as well sort me laundry, throw me existing jammies in and be done with it.
Now a note about those lilac scrubs. Scrubs me Tonnie has taken to sleeping in. She finds they keep her warm enough, comfy enough and she rather likes them. I call her Dr. Tonnie when she dons these lovely outfits. Yes, if she were going to perform surgery I might get turned on, but when you feel like your surgeon is sleeping with you, the excitement fades. Yes, it does. Think about it.
Anyway, me sainted Mam thought to get me Tonya in the O'Sullivan Christmas Eve tradition of buying new jammies to sleep in that night. Me Mam has done this since I can remember and many Irish families who could afford it did it too. It's an ingenious way to get the kiddies to shut up about opening a present on Christmas Eve. I told me Mam that Ton liked the scrubs and after a very bizarre discussion (on me Mam'a part) on Ton's choice of sleep wear (I think the word fetish was thrown about), she decided to get her femme ones, thus, the lilac colour, and where she found scrubs in that colour I do not know and did not ask. Only one thing, me Ton is not an XL. No, she be a medium. But me Mam thought she'd like roomy pj's and so she got the XL size. I will save you the joy of Ton opening them Christmas Eve afternoon and jump to the fact, that needless to say, she did NOT wear them. So unwashed they remained in the gift box.
Back to present day, yours truly was not about to sort wash, or do any kind of wash at 11 at night. So knowing I be alone I went to the gift box, took the offending scrubs out and well, I put them on I did. You don't know how foolish I felt in lilac. Scrubs no less. But no one was about so I went to bed wearing them. I did not throw them in the light wash cycle to get out the stiff sizing, no I did not. I didn't have need to throw them in the dryer to soften them up either, so that was that. Or, at least I thought until this morning.
The smell of coffee brewing woke yours truly from a delicious dream of being locked in a candy store with Pamela Anderson pouring caramel all over her naked body. It took a lot for me to throw off the dream and stagger into the kitchen. There in me groggy haze was me sainted Tonya making breakfast. She turned around to say something about coffee when she stopped with spatula in the air looking at me aghast. I was admiring how glowing she looked from her spa stay, but more importantly I was focused in on the delicious banana pancakes on the griddle, before I noticed her look of alarm.
"What?" I asked.
She put the spatula down, turned off the heat and came rushing over to me. She held me face in her hands and moved me head around, then she lifted up me scrub top and her eyes got big and I thought for one male moment we were about to have an exciting time of me playing doctor on top of the kitchen table, but it wasn't me who was the doctor it was HER!
"Gabe, YOU are covered in rash!"
Well, as you can imagine that did the moment for me. I rushed to the bathroom mirror and sure enough me face was a blotchy mess. Not only me face, everywhere the scrubs covered but me forearms, were covered in red dots. Me face because me hands had touched it after touching the scrubs, it was the sizing, I was allergic!
There was nothing to be done! She got me out of the lilac scrubs, into the shower while she stripped the bed sheets, took the offending scrubs and to the wash she went. I never did get breakfast. Instead, I got a cold cereal bar that came with the morning newspaper and a lukewarm cup of coffee. There I sat chewing slowly, me face red from not only rash, but embarrassment for me laziness. I be going to put the Cort-aid on me dots when Ton came upstairs from starting the wash. Yup, the wash I never did. She should be down there for a few months and she has the Cort-aid, it be in the laundry bathroom where I left it when I cut meself on fooling with making a show of using the axe grinding machine a while back. Sigh.
Begorrah me, never will I wear right out of the box anything. I have learned me lesson and have been studying how the washer/dryer works. Yup, Tonya gave me the manuals, told me it was required reading material. Yes, me punishment is doing the wash over the next few weeks. She be starting it off with the sorting, then it's ALL up to me to get it all washed and dried. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2006 All rights reserved
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