It would seem that cleaning the bathtub would be my archenemy because I am doomed to take a forty-five minute shower when I am done. But today my nemesis is laundry. I have a lot of laundry stories, to be sure; there always seems to be something about it that catches me off guard.
This time I was bending down to pull the clean clothes out of the dryer. One small shirt flopped over in my hands and touched my forearm. My forearm is not clean enough for laundry; to be that clean I would have to wash up past my elbows every time I handle clean clothes. I don’t wash that high up, so I take my chances with the laundry.
The shirt was not going to make it this time, so I considered tossing it on the floor until I could take care of it later. I was crouched down with my head practically in the dryer, and for some reason I decided that the top of the dryer would be a better place for the shirt. I should have followed my instinct, but no, and as I tossed it upward, a corner of the shirt got caught on my pinky finger, and it started spinning around like a lasso. It brushed against the dryer, continued spinning, then brushed against me. At least I think it did. I hate it when I’m not sure if I have been contaminated or not. I know for a fact that it at least created a strong wind that I felt on my arm and hair. It was so fast that there was no way to be sure, but I felt something. So, touched or not, tonight I have to take a super-shower.
Similar incidents have happened before. I try to be so careful, but some things are unforeseeable. A few months ago I was taking my bedspread out of the dryer. It is large and difficult to handle, so I always attempt to move slowly and cautiously with it. On that day, a corner of the bedspread hit the outside of the dryer, and when I stood up, the same corner flung back and hit my face! There is just no way to predict that. I also had a super-shower that night.
Getting clean can be a dirty business.