iron age

Yesterday I bought an iron.

I had this dinky little travel iron that stopped working probably the third time I ever used it back in college. For Christmas, though, my aunt sent us some really lovely napkins that, I soon learned, are not so much wrinkle-free after a wash.

Then Alisa was asking me what my "something borrowed" was because she didn't have one yet. While I, horribly, couldn't remember (unless it was the lucky ha'penny that fell out of my shoe and I will never forgive myself for losing), I offered her my bridal handkerchief as her "something borrowed," which she gladly accepted and which makes me happy to no end.

So I got it out and realized, Damn. This needs to be ironed too.

I had to go to the hardware store on my way to class because I was out of tape for class. It's uber-important that I tape out the stage exactly now that we're in rehearsals, so I caved and decided to buy some tape rather than fudge it with the remnants. I was walking back up to the counter when the Appliances aisle caught my eye -- there, for a mere $12, was an iron. An iron I might go so far as to call "cute," in fact.

And I thought, All right. Suck it up, and let's just get it over with.

I don't really know why I've put off buying an iron for so long. It seems like it is one of those items that everyone just has, even if it sits in the closet unused. I think on a subconscious level, avoiding this particular purchase was one last bastion of "I'm not really a grown-up!" protestations. After all, Jim's shirts go to the cleaners to be laundered, and until the napkins and the tablecloth and the handkerchief, I didn't really have anything that absolutely required ironing.

(I'm sure my mother is horrified by this. This is a woman who used to wear ironed jeans. Then again, that might just be because our housekeeper, Burnette, ironed everything. I'm pretty sure that included underwear.)

I have to admit, though, I'm actually kind of excited about the iron. I enjoy doing laundry -- it's my form of meditation -- and now ironing can be a part of that.

Just don't make me buy an ironing board. Given my klutztastic tendencies and the fact that I never had one of these to practice on,that can only result in disaster.