Tonight I ironed. I am not one who enjoys ironing nor do iron often. I feel very accomplished after ironing my pillowcases, shams and my duvet cover. I rarely iron my pillow cases and this was the first time ironing my duvet cover. The pillow cases and shams were done. The duvet was close to done and didn't look perfect, but better than it before. I heard a pop, smelled something burning, looked down, and saw the cord on fire where the cord meets the iron. Now you may ask, "How old is your iron?" Hard to say. I know that we didn't get it when we got married (8 1/2 years ago), but we did get it when we were newlyweds. The iron has suffered much abuse, not from use, but from falling off the ironing board. I'm sure the lineolum in our laundry room in VA could count the number of times. I can't remember the last time I could use the steam setting. The outer plastic casing had cracks in multiple places from the nose dives off the board. Farewell little iron, you served us well.
2 years ago
1 comment:
Funny story! I think it's time for a new one! Yesterday our iron started leaking brown liquid and stained my white shirt and I almost started crying because I was so mad. Aren't irons supposed to make our lives easier?
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