I just sinned. I took the clothes off the line. When you’re pregnant with triplets, sin is relative.
The thing is my doctor has said I shouldn’t do the washing anymore. So I’ve (although really, it’s been my Mum mostly) has organised people to put the clothes on the line, and take them off the line. Unfortunately the Tuesday afternoon time slot hasn’t been filled yet. Which was fine today because I saw my neighbour when we were both collecting our mail. I asked her if she might take my clothes off the line. She happily agreed. Problem solved. Until she didn’t come home and the night air was getting damp. So I ducked out and took them off myself. Luckily unlike the last time I took the clothes off the line, there was no stomach pain afterwards…
Now I’m going to have to explain myself to my mother.
Whether you’re 10 and been caught stealing bikkies from the biscuit jar, or, well, 30 something, and pregnant with triplets, it’s never pleasant having to explain yourself to your mother.
I’m going to blame the neighbour. It’s not as good as blaming a sibling, because you know the neighbour’s not going to get roasted over it, but it will do. So long the heat is off me.
It’s an odd thing having people do your laundry. There’s all sorts of issues associated with laundry hanging that you may never consider should suddenly lose the privilege of hanging your clothes.
For instance, I normally have a hanging system. It closely resembles my mother’s hanging methods. I can remember grumbling when I was a teenager about mother’s system: hanging the underwear on the insides so people can’t see it, heavy items on the outside, so they have a better chance to dry, shirts are hung by the tails, etc, etc. In response to my grumblings, my mother would tell me that when I have my own house and my own clothesline I can hang it whichever way I like, but until then….
Inevitably, by the time my frontal lobe developed giving me the brain cells I was missing as a teenager, Mum’s way of doing things made remarkable sense, and that’s how I continued to hang clothes.
But everyone has their own way, and now when I look out at all the assorted ways that assorted people hang my washing, I just need to let it go. “It doesn’t matter that the trouser hung by their pant legs instead of their waistline, I tell myself.” I chide myself for my silliness, because after all, I’m very grateful for the help.
Just as well I’m not a complete washing Nazi and insist on colour coding pegs or anything.
Or there’s the delicate subject of the delicates. It’s a tad awkward to know your friends are hanging your undies. Especially when they hang what I classify as my ‘overnight undies’. That’s the underwear which has been a faithful companion for many years, however they have reached the twilight of their elasticised lifespan. I’m not so harsh as to immediately throw away these loyal, constant companions. I continue to don them as my evening wear. There’s nothing more comfy then slipping on your jammies, and your big overstretched undies and settling down for the night.
But, oh dear, what do people think when they hang them on the line? I’ve considered throwing them out, but if there is ever a time where I appreciate mis-shapen panties. It would be now, when almost everything I seem to wear feels considerable tight.
And so, they bask in the sunlight still.
Which can be unfortunate, because not everyone is as clever at hanging as my Mum. I have gone outside and found these unfortunate items of apparel on the outside line, on full display for the neighbourhood to see.
We all know that you lose a certain amount of dignity and decorum when you are pregnant. I just wasn’t prepared for this one!
So, do you have a laundry washing/hanging/folding system/obsession?