Starchman

Guy likes to have his work clothes done at the laundry down the street. The shirts are pretty cheap if you take six or more at a time, and they certainly do a better job than I could. It is about $1.20 something a shirt, and considering it would take me around 30 minutes to press and starch said shirt, I think that is a bargain.

The pants, though, not so much. I finally asked on Friday exactly how much the pants were a pair. She said it was $3.90 a pair. Yikes! That is way too much money to be spending on laundry!

I told Guy I wanted to start doing his pants myself and just taking his shirts. He raised one eyebrow at me, wondering if he had ever seen me pick up an iron, and I reminded him that before home renovation hell, I used to press the sheets and pillowcases for crying out loud. I just can't do dress shirts very well. I can press a pair of pants, thank you.

He hadn't actually agreed to this arrangement yet. He also thinks I should have less to do while I'm pregnant. I've tried explaining that if I do any less, I will die of boredom. Not having a kitchen has been torture, and left me making up stuff to do around the house. Getting to press his pants will probably be fun in reality.

This morning, he was in the bedroom getting dressed while I was putting in my contacts and getting ready to take Lovely to school. He lets out a big gufawing laugh, and comes in with a pair of pants that they have obviously heavy starched instead of lightly starched.

He sets them upright on the floor. They stand on their own. He tries to put them on, but they won't bend. Sprawled across the bed, he finally gets them on and proceeds to separate all the pockets while I lean down and pull them apart at the ankles.

As he walked across the room without being able to bend his legs, he decided it might be okay for me to launder and press his pants at home after all.

I just wonder how he got in that tiny car of his with his legs sticking straight out in front of him. That's something I would have liked to have seen.