November 12, 2007Somebody talk me off of this ledge.
Why am I standing on a ledge you ask?
Because I'm angry. I'm SO ANGRY. I AM SOOOO FREAKING MAD!!!
As I was throwing some laundry into the washing machine this morning, I came across a peculiar sight. It was a priceless family heirloom haphazardly stuffed into a ball and thrown into the dirty clothes hamper.
That's right. The shorts from James's hand-sewn Richard Simmons halloween costume were wedged between a pair of pee-soaked footy pajamas and a stinky-old, wet dishrag.
I fished the shorty-shorts out of the hamper, caught my breath, and lovingly laid them on top of the dryer--inspecting them closely for any apparent damage. Aside from some moderate-to-severe wrinkling and a bit of pom-pom discoloration, they were okay.
"Thank goodness," I though. And then it occurred to me, "The matching shirt?! Where is the matching muscle tank!?"
I caught a glimpse of the empty hamper and realized that it was already in the washing machine, which was filling up with water. I threw my body over the dryer and was barely able to reach the STOP button with the tip of my middle finger.
I opened the washing machine and was relieved to find that the muscle tee had remained relatively dry. The felt stars, you see, are not machine washable. Neither are the crafty little pom-poms or the golden glitter accents.
I am, however, very sad to report that the tank top did not fare as well as the coordinating shorts. It's severely wrinkled, has several small stains, and the stars are falling off.
I'm not sure you understand the degree of angst that I'm experiencing as a result of this loss. I was proud of that hand-made costume. That circa-1970s white edging was attached with love--every single stitch was sewn in a caring effort to make my kid a little bit more special than the rest.
I wanted all of my kids to wear it. And I wanted all of their kids to wear it, too.
My hope is gone. My dreams are dashed. And my "helpful" husband will be sleeping on the balcony until he can either learn to reproduce the Richard Simmons costume stitch for stitch, or he begins earning a six-figure salary...which ever comes first.
18 comments:
im really sorry that happened, amy. perhaps it had fulfilled it's destiny and wanted to go out cleanly.
Oh no..no..no...that is just wrong. He must remake it..he just must!
poor jared-
at least he tried to help out.
Oh, Amy! I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. Still...
...this reminds me of something that happened to me a long time ago. Back when I could fit into nice clothes, I had this gorgeous outfit, a blouse and some fabulous, willowy pants I totally loved.
Well, my mother, who always wanted to please, decided to "surprise" me by doing something nice for me, since "I worked so hard". Yep, she did my laundry. When I got home from work, she was afraid to show me the pants.
Let's just say...I didn't fit in them anymore. Heck, maybe my nine year old self could have fit into them. I was SOOOOOO ANGRY. I yelled and yelled at her, totally chewing her out. She cried-a lot.
You can imagine how guilty I feel now when I think about it. I'm even crying now as I write this. Oh, I wish I could take it back, Amy! I really do. It makes me feel AWFUL that I got so angry over a pair of pants, when all she wanted to do was surprise me with something nice. I mean, I was so MEAN to her. I have never forgiven myself.
Anyway, sorry. I know you are looking for sympathy, not a lecture, but I can't help myself. I do know EXACTLY how you feel, especially since, contrary to my pants, this was something you made lovingly and it took lots of effort.
If I had your talent, I'd make you another pair.
I'm so sorry! Let me know if I can do something for you, ok?
Why are your friends so nice? Whoever put those hot pants in the hamper deserves to make dinner all week!
Let the poor guy back into the house. I'm sure that he didn't do it on purpose. I understand you being mad though. I've had similar things happen to stuff that I really cherished that were erased or runined by accident.
Shocking! How totally thoughtless of him! That fabulous outfit deserved to be preserved for posterity in one of those wedding dress boxes with the window on the front! (This from a mother who still has not taken her daughter's wedding dress to have this done.) :-)
I say pack what remains of your work of art in James' box! You know that box of all the stuff you are saving to give him when he grows up. The dalmation costume I made this year for my son is going in his box. Because I KNOW he will want to keep it forever (and pass it on to his heirs)!!
run Jared,run!
This is pretty funny. I mean, I guess it wasn't meant to be funny, but it's still pretty funny. Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you. Oh wait... you're not laughing are you? ;-)
TO TO BAD
Get off the ledge your a big girl now.
Hey anonymous #3 -- if you're going to write snotty responses, at least learn how to compose contractions correctly.
And what part of Amy's recent suggestion to simply "go away" did you not understand?
We heart Amy and Jared
What is a Richard Simmons costume doing in the laundry room?
Sweating with the foldies. ;)
Amy, you should seriously consider banning Anonymous comments. If someone can't identify themselves, then phooey to them! I'm shaking my fists at you, meanie. Leave my friend alone! Coward.
I hate it when laundry accidents happen. My DH does the laundry, and so I'm not allowed to be mad, because he'll just say, "Well then YOU do the laundry." Horror.
(P.S. No, I love YOU. Seriously, do you KNOW how long you've been on my blogroll? Unrequieted for far too long.)
Hilary--your plays on words never cease to amaze me.
Perhaps someday Anonymous will understand the true value of these handmade gems.
Berta, you're right. I've only ever had one critical comment that wasn't anonymous. I appreciated that very, very much.
Maybe it was the gnomes, not Jared. Whenever something in the house goes wrong (like that giant scratch on the living room floor -- I don't KNOW who could've done that), I always blame the gnomes. When things go well, I like to take credit for it myself. And whenever I wish for something to get done, I wish the house elves would help out (because everyone knows that the gnomes would just screw it up).
I know, I live in a world that is part Middle Earth, part Narnia, and part Hogwarts.
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