As if I didn’t hate, hate, hate ironing enough already, my iron decided to lash out at me today. I burned my hand. Certainly not the worst burn I’ve ever had, but it’s a tad uncomfortable.
It’s been almost 40 years since we landed a man on the moon, and we still don’t have completely wrinkle-free wardrobes? Come on, NASA…do something useful!
I’d rather clean 10 toilets than iron for an hour, yet I do it each and every week. Usually with a smile. Until I burn my hand.
