You know what? I sure am glad someone invented permanent press and wrinkle free material. I know we still have some clothes that need ironing, but it sure is a lot better than it used to be.
I remember when mom first taught me how to iron. She started me with handkerchiefs, (what in the world we did with so many of them I really don't know), and it sure took me a long time to figure out how to do it right. I couldn't seem to get coordinated enough to hold the cloth with one hand and the iron with the other, and press the handkerchiefs flat without creating more and more wrinkles. What a pain!
Mom ironed every Saturday afternoon. It was part of our routine. I suppose she did the laundry all week long, as needed, but any clothes that needed ironing were sprinkled with water, rolled up, and put in a green plastic bag mom kept in the refrigerator, waiting to be ironed later. Thinking back, it sure seems like a weird thing to do.
On Saturday, after the regular housecleaning was done, mom would take out the ironing bag and she would iron. I'm sure it was not one of her favorite jobs, it seemed to take all afternoon sometimes, but she never complained. In fact, I remember it as being one of our favorite times of the week. Mom would visit with us, listen to our stories, and let us tell her all about the things we were doing. She knew how to ask the right questions, I guess, and she was a good listener. She was especially good at getting my older brother, Keith, to talk. He was a teenager by this time, but he enjoyed gabbing with mom as much as the rest of us, and I loved listening to them talk.
The older we got the less ironing there was to do, (double knit fabric was beginning to come into style, ugly but easy to care for), and there was less time for gossiping around the ironing board. Mom made up for that in other ways, but you know what? I miss those days. I guess ironing for hours was a good thing, after all.
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