Whites, colors, plaids, and whatever else I could grab were getting crammed into our washing machine. I was diggin’ through that hamper like a dog would drill through the earth in search of his bone. Statistics have shown that whatever I find on the top layer of the hamper has 100% chance of getting soaked whenever I’m on the laundry crew.
I leaned into the door forcing it closed, added detergent, and set the dials to normal and warm. That’s it … always normal and warm. It’s a technique I learned in college and I’ve continued it to this day. On the other hand, my wife, Carrie, does laundry using a much more thought provoking method. She selects other choices on the menu such as hot, delicate, smellicate, and whatever-else-icate.
We didn’t always have those fancy cycle options. Our early marriage washing machine was very basic and it lasted us 20 years. It sure beat the trips to a coin laundry mat or to a nearby river where I could multi-task ... you know, bathe as well as wash my clothes. I think our current neighbors are especially appreciative that I don’t bathe and launder our clothes in the river … only because of environmental concerns I’m sure.
So our original washing machine eventually wore out. As I reflect back on our 25 year marriage, most of the things we’ve purchased have eventually worn out.
Thankfully, our marriage is not wearing out. It seems our marriage, though old, just keeps getting stronger. Of course, having a wife that’s hot and delicate never hurts. Uh, I mean, having a wife that does hot and delicate laundry cycles, never hurts. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what I meant.
(Insert reflective pause ... Pause continues with smile.)
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