Ugh I can’t believe what happened today. After losing a button on my gray trench coat, I realized a few days later there was a small stain on my khaki trench. So I put some Shout on it and threw it in the washing machine this morning. Now there was a brief moment when I thought, “You should check the pockets for your gloves.” But I could have sworn the last time I wore it the gloves were not in the pockets and tucked safely away with the rest of my cold weather accessories.
Well kids…I was wrong. I pulled the trench out of the washing machine and one of my black leather Coach gloves was hanging out of the pocket. My exact words: “Oh no…God damn it!” After literally stomping my feet all around the laundry room, I took my soaked gloves, trench and another jacket up to hang up to dry. Well the gloves aren’t hanging; they’re sitting on my dresser on a paper towel, looking quite pathetic. The lining is cashmere and I’m praying they aren’t ruined. They had just got to the really nicely soft and broken in stage. Sigh….
I find this experience quite ironic because my mother and I used to have fights about checking pockets weekly when I was in high school. I’m a lip balm freak and always had some in my pockets at school. I don’t even want to know how many tubes were ruined because my mom flat out refuses to check the pockets of anything that she washes. Now washing a tube of lip balm isn’t really a big deal. It’s a little wet if you try to use it, which is always too wet for my liking and I end up throwing it away. It’s when the lip balm finds it way through the dryer that you’re really in trouble. I don’t check the pockets of my jeans or pants because now carrying a purse alleviates the problem of washing lip balm. But the worst thing ever to go through the laundry at my mom’s house was two leftover pieces of those delicious chocolate and caramel candy bars schools sell for fundraisers. Now why I put the last two remaining pieces in the pocket of my favorite Tommy Hilfiger khaki pants, I will never know. But I did and they went through the washing machine and dryer, only to be discovered by my very angry way when the chocolate had melted all over my khaki pants and my dad’s work pants. Now everyone knows chocolate is almost impossible to get out of anything it seems, but after one round for Dad’s pants and two or three for mine, everything came clean. In the inevitable argument that followed, my mom and I played the blame game: me blaming her for not checking pockets and her blaming me for being stupid enough to save chocolate inside an item of clothing. Hey it was choir and my backpack wasn’t with me, alright? It was the only place I had.
If anyone has a suggestions as to salvage these gloves, please let me know!
ADDENDUM: Not only did I wash the gloves, two white tank tops were ruined in that same load of laundry. And apparently I don’t read care tags. Well actually I do, but I didn’t think my new favorite shirt from Akira seemed like a dry-clean only fabric. But oh it is! And my new favorite shirt is no more because it shrunk. What the hell is going on today?! I’m laundry-dysfunctional!