How to Fold Laundry Without Touching It

Two weekends ago, my husband and I spent a full ten hours without our children, leaving them home with someone we trusted their lives with while going to a wedding.

I got myself all dolled up, which I only do once in a blue moon. Of course, once I had my nail polish on I realized I had a load of laundry ready in the drier to be folded. They had been drying for about ten minutes, but I was not yet confident in their holding power.

Gingerly, I opened the drier with my shoe, then used my elbows to get the clothing out. Then, using the flat edges of my fingers, I carefully folded the laundry without fully touching any with my nails.

As we were getting ready to leave, I could hear the baby on the monitor, talking to herself as she always does when she wakes from a nap. Should I say goodbye? I decided that her pre-nap nursing had been enough of a goodbye. I would just upset her further by saying hello and then leaving.

The wedding was at St. Rose of Lima in Massapequa, where we had married fifteen years ago. Just being there together was a blessing for us. So were the little-known scripture from Tobit, a beautifully sung “El Shaddai” and “Ave Maria”, and a poem about hands used at the end. My husband was so thankful that it was a nuptial Mass. Someone was keeping careful time – I heard someone murmur that it was a full hour and fifteen minutes. What did that matter? Most people skipped the Mass and headed directly for the reception.

In the middle of the reception, I found that I had sat in something black and sticky. I tried to get it off, unsuccessfully, leaving a large water spot on my long, silky lavender dress. Thankfully for me, the reception place was so dark that no one seemed to notice.

During cocktail hour, we found a table on a lovely outdoor Spanish-like patio and loaded our plates with shrimp, lobster, and mussels. Once ushered into the ballroom, there was a full half hour in which Kevin and I were able to dance to old school traditional wedding music. Later it would turn into a techo-garble disco, around 11:30 as we were ready to leave anyway.

We arrived home just a little after midnight, just after I lost my glass slipper and my coach turned into a pumpkin.

Painting: The Marriage Feast at Cana, Jan Steen, 1655/70
For Biblical Story see John 2:1-12

What's Red and White All Over?

I suppose it happens to every mother at least once.

I pulled the white wash out of the drier late last night and repeatedly moaned, “Oh no. . .oh no. . .oh no. . .”

“What’s the matter?” my husband asked.

“Somebody must have left a red crayon in their pocket. . .”

Every single item was streaked with red lines. The drier, too, was streaked red inside the drum.

After examining each piece, I realized there were no pockets in any of them.

“The baby must have stuck a red crayon in the laundry basket,” I said.

“Go ahead, blame the baby,” my husband joked.

I put everything back in the washer, and dumped a few cups of bleach in, letting it soak for a half hour and hoping for the best. I let the machine complete the cycle before going to bed.

When I woke up this morning, I again pulled each piece out, one by one. A few socks had been spared, and the dish towels were worn ragged to begin with, but all the undershirts, and especially all of my son’s uniform shirts, were irreparably harmed. I found the real culprit, a pair of Spiderman undies with a red waistband. Who in their right mind would invent such a horrid thing?

I tried one more wash with about a quart of bleach. Some pieces came out a little better, but my son was going to need a whole new set of uniform shirts. Good thing he has gym tomorrow, and will need a white shirt for only one more day before Easter vacation. He was growing out of that size anyway, I further reasoned, trying to mentally minimize my loss.

Today is the traditional day to go to confession before Easter, and I thought my laundry problem could physically represent the need to have our sins washed away by the Blood of Jesus. We can do all the good works we like to wash our dirty laundry but only He can take those red stripes of sin away. By His Stripes we are healed.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrightousness.”
I John 1:9

Painting above:
No. 33 Scenes from the Life of Christ: 17. Flagellation
1304-06
Fresco, 200 x 185 cm
Cappella Scrovegni (Arena Chapel), Padua