A special kind of torture

http://www.neatorama.com/2012/05/30/the-iron-man-clothes-iron/

Our family is coming out of a 6 day blur. I tend to handle tragedy with my own proprietary coping mechanisms, so I will not write about the sad stuff... but I will write about tablecloths!!!

We needed nice, cloth tablecloths. We bought nice cloth tablecloths. They were nice. They were cloth. They were also more wrinkled than a 105 year old naturalist Inuit tobacco farmer (yes, I know they don't grow tobacco, but just imagine...) (I just imagined, never mind, don't imagine). So I, being a good husband (and being particularly skilled with a steam iron if I do say so myself, and I do) set to ironing. And I kept ironing, it was like I had created a very boring alternate universe where Marvel comics produces movies about superheroes who handle household chores, so like an alternate alternate universe. Iron Man! Anywho...

I don't know if you've ever ironed tablecloths before, but if you have, you are my new hero. Yes, the movie version of Iron Man saves the planet occasionally and drives nice cars and all, but I doubt Tony Stark could stand at an ironing board for close to three hours to iron 12 (TWELVE!) tablecloths.

Tablecloth 1 was not bad, I handled it gently, with patience and love, and a little bit of sprayed tap water.

By tablecloth number 3 I was angrier than I've ever been in my life. My daughter came in the room to bring me a bottled water and asked why my freshly shaved beard had grown back out, and why it was now made of needles.

By tablecloth 5 I had somehow developed telekinetic superpowers and was controlling the iron from across the room.

By tablecloth number 7 I had mentally dismembered every plant and fence and house and passing car that I observed through my bedroom window.

By tablecloths numbers 10 and 11 I had given up on ironing completely and had resorted to beating the wrinkles into submission with bloody fists and sheer will.

When tablecloth number 12 came, I threw it into the air, and glared really really hard, slipped on the plastic wrapper that was lying on the floor, fell backwards, hit my head on the footboard of my bed, and lost my telekinetic abilities in the process. Then stood up and ironed like a normal, mild mannered human.

My wife came in, kissed me on the cheek and said "Thank you", and that was that.

Perfectly relevant image courtesy of Neatorama