I've been thinking a lot about ironing recently. I had this great urge to iron the other night, so I pulled out my iron, attempted to put the water in the right place (I have not ironed since college), and plugged it in. Eventually the steam began to billow out of the bottom of the iron, and I pulled together a few oxfords (I went to UVA, yes, I have multiple oxfords) and began pressing them.
I finished 3 shirts before I realized why I wanted to iron in the first place. Dirty laundry? Nope. Sudden obsession with neatness? Unlikely.
I started with a product that was wrinkled and messy. I knew the steps that I had to take to smooth it out. All it took was a little pressure and a little heat, and magically the little wrinkles gave way.
Don't you ever wish you could take an iron to your life?
1 comment:
ummmm remember when i was hiding behind the bed/ironing in the princess room?
good times.
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