When busy, delegate, and that’s what I did. The book has been awfully busy in my therapeutic massage practice, so it was getting difficult to get all of the laundry done. Honey volunteered to help out by making sure the sheets were cleaned, dried and folded.
Excellent idea, delegation. Takes the load off your shoulders, eh?
So I was about to toss some of my favorite organic, no-dye cotton sheets on the table when I saw it. This little milky way of grey dots floating across the bottom sheet. Dust? Heck no, these were part of the fabric. Stains! And no way to turn the sheet over...I turned them top to bottom instead.
After my client left, I put on the bright lights and looked at my sheets. Every single one had trails of grey dots, some big, some small, looking like a mad painter had flicked a loaded brush onto my sheets.
Luckily, I had enough color and patterned sheets to get by for the day. Later that night, at the house, I asked Honey, nicely, how doing the laundry was going.
I was reminded of the scene in “Young Frankenstein” when the young Dr. Frankenstein decided to quiz Igor. Cue the sad violin music…
“Tell me where you got the brain, it’s ok. Just tell me where you got the brain for my creation….”
Igor: “Hmmmn. Let’s see. Ahhhhhh, no that wasn’t it. Ahh, yes, yes it was Abby. Abby something. Yes, that’s it. Abbynormal.”
“So how is the sheet biz going, honey?”
“Fine. Do you like the way I fold them?”
“Seems very tidy to me…. Hey, have you tried anything different?”
“I was wondering if you would notice….I found some great detergent on sale at Big Lots. It’s that same fragrance-free stuff you like for half the price.”
Half-price, eh? I held up one of the suspect grey sheets.
“Oh dear,” Honey said.
Hey, it was a good idea, to cut costs. And hey, it was a bad idea not to tell me an let me find out on my own. And hey, if I can charge people enough to do a massage, I would like to have sheets that do not appear to have been through a mud run at the Marine base.
And fudge crumpets, I need to be able to delegate some things around here. Harumph. Cue the sad violin music….