Martha Stewart doesn’t live here; as you know I have kitchen disasters on a regular basis. I don’t do well with domestic chores, or appliances. (I’ve set 3 toaster ovens on fire; please don’t buy me one for Christmas.) I was tired of using the tiny travel iron for my husband’s clothes, so we got a big, beefy German one.
I read the instructions over carefully several times, especially since the booklet is written for the illiterate, with pictures instead of words!
Okay, like we used to say at the IT Help Desk, “is it plugged in?”
First, I have to fill with water for steam.
Types of water NOT to use:
- Water from clothes dryers ( I never even thought of this one)
- Scented or softened water (So no tap water)
- Water from refrigerators, batteries or air conditions (Gee, I can’t use battery water?!)
- Pure distilled or demineralized water or rain water
- Also: do not use boiled, filtered, or bottled water.
What’s left? Spit?!
So I roll the dice and put in water that is from the Springs nearby, stored in an old milk container.
Ok, first shirt. I did rather well, the steam feature worked okay. The ironing board wobbled as I pulled the iron over it. I hung up the shirt and went for number two. (Ah, the second shirt, what did you think I meant?)
The iron spit a little along with the steam, and water drops formed on the shirt. The ironing board wobbled some more. I ironed over them quickly, trying to dry the spots. And then those little brown spots, like cigarette burns started to appear.Yes, on one of my husband’s brand new shirts!
I ran out of water for the steam function.
I was feeling adventurous, so instead of filling the iron over the sink, I got the bright idea to fill it over top of the ironing board. Well this is why it says “children should not be unattended.” I spilled water onto the ironing board, but I figured, eh, it will be “steamed” into oblivion.
Next shirt. Water soaked into it as it sat on the ironing board, and I frantically tried to “evaporate” the water by setting the temperature just a wee bit higher and rubbing the iron over the shirt. The ironing board wobbled The water didn’t evaporate but spread and left some watermarks.
Here it comes, the downward spiral. I can’t do anything right. I’m not a good help to hubby. I never could do anything right. I’m a bad person. I don’t deserve anything good to happen to me. I’m a terrible person. What’s wrong with me that I can’t iron clothes without making a mess? I’m a bad person.
Ctrl / Shift / Del
I hung up the last shirt. I dumped out the water from the iron into the sink. I’m done.
I don’t live in that old world anymore; I’m not going to get hit or yelled at or insulted.
I went upstairs and told hubby what happened. He said, “It’s not worth melting down over it. I’ll iron my own clothes. Don’t worry about it.”
Whew. I am miles away and decades away from that old life. But it still tries to penetrate into my brain every day. I have to stop myself, and “hold every thought captive” and replace it with good thoughts. Bring it into the obedience of Christ.
And so hubby might go to work with some wrinkles or some “cigarette burns” on the back of his shirt.