January 18, 2010
And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a Laundry Fairy in pink wings, and Dryel flower perched on her ear..
Good heavens! How many Oxycontin did I take? Maybe I’m having an allergic reaction to the antibiotic! My eyes were wide when they first caught site of her. I was brushing my teeth at the time. All the excitement made me brush more vigorously and soon mint green foam was dripping down my chin. Do I spit first or take a picture? These mythological creatures are rarely seen in public, let alone in daylight. Do I need to cover the mirrors or set out milk and cookies? I don’t have an algorithm for this kind of event. Then it occurs to me, grab the ironing board, fill the steam port on the iron and heat up the dryer with a Bounce sheet and maybe she’ll feel at home. Phew! I figured it out just in time. She flitted around the house for hours collecting laundry and dusting everything in her path. Her Spray-n-Wash holster was fully loaded and her yellow-gloved trigger finger was faster than the speed-of- light. A merry little tune and the sweet scent of Dryel anti-static softener sheets trailed behind her as she went about her work. She was living out the motto printed on her Laundry Fairy-issue uniform; “Live, Love, Launder.” Some of us are too old for the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, but believe me when I tell you that you CAN believe in the Laundry Fairy!
A few days after her appearance, I was still convincing myself that she actually existed when my sister Gayle stopped by with a load of folded, pressed and hung laundry. She arrived in her usual vice presidential fashion, coifed and dressed in successful business attire. I couldn’t help but notice that something about her reminded me of the Laundry Fairy. I glanced outside to see if there was a telephone booth where she might have changed outfits, but the usual mud and gravel of my driveway was all I saw. I desperately wanted to tell her I recognized her and thank her for the good deeds, but something told me I should keep that to myself. There must be a litmus test to see if this Clark Kent was really Superman. Of the items she brought, I noticed that some were inside a clear plastic bag from a dry cleaner. My cloth shower curtain was one, crisply folded in lengths and hung precisely in the center of a proper slack hanger. This was my big chance to expose her. “Gayle, you really shouldn’t have taken this stuff to the cleaners! Let me reimburse you,” I offered. First there was a flash of indignation that shot from her blue eyes, but she caught herself immediately as she realized that she had actually been flattered. She averted her gaze to the floor and blushed with a humble pride. Yes, she really was THAT good at laundry. That was all the reward she needed.
As you might imagine, the Laundry Fairy is a big step up from my style of laundry service at home. The downside of her visits is how readily the men have adjusted to her presence and have moved from gratitude to, “When’s the Laundry Fairy coming?”
I have to admit that I was pretty embarrassed when Gayle and her family came over Sunday night and cooked a delicious, maximum comfort food, pot roast dinner for us. After we had watched a silly Jackie Chan movie together it was time for them to pack it up. Everyone was making the rounds with good bye hugs when I noticed John was no where to be seen. “John, where are you? Get out here and hug your Auntie Gayle and Uncle Kyle,” I hollered. He emerged from the bedroom hallway lugging his full laundry bin with an urgent look on his face, which clearly read that he didn’t want to miss the Laundry Fairy! I looked at him in surprise and waved him off as he started to say, “What about my….” “We’ll deal with that later, Dear,” I whispered.
Not all change is hard on kids.
Laundry Fairy siting, January 2010
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