Monday Moanin'
By David Smith
September 13, 2004
Greetings from a guy with dry wit,
Once a week the Laundry Fairy arrives and I magically get clean clothes and towels. I learned about the Laundry Fairy when I asked Suzanne about where all the clean towels went and she said: "Why don't you ask the Laundry Fairy?" in a tone that gave me the feeling my wife is really mad at the Laundry Fairy.
This leads me to believe the Laundry Fairy might be stealing my towels. Follow along:
Day One I have a linen closet filled with about 20 clean bath towels. I took a shower on Day One and used one towel. Suzanne took a shower using two towels, one for her hair, which I do not begrudge her although I never have seen the need for such extravagance. By Day Two all the towels were gone. I discovered this at a rather inopportune moment, as I stepped from the shower in full towel-anticipation. The feeling of towellessness overwhelmed me.
I launched a full-scale investigation. I scoured every inch of the house looking everywhere a towel could be wadded or folded. I found laundry baskets conveniently located in each child's bedroom. Dirty clothes are conveniently located on the floor surrounding the laundry basket. I hope this does not prevent the Laundry Fairy from making her appointed rounds. No towels.
Most of the towels that were used in the traditional manner were easy to find because they were still lying on the floor in the immediate area of use. Except for the one that is a semi-permanent turban on my daughter's head. I have one son, Harrison, who is an aspiring super hero, so one towel is a cape. Ironically, last night as he emerged from the shower he could not find a towel and had to dry himself by rolling on the carpet.
The other two sons tell me they have no idea where the towels are. I show them pictures of the towels and they both deny ever having seen a towel in their life. Just for good measure they both also deny knowing where my hammer is.
I seem to remember someone blotting up something the dog left on the kitchen floor, so that accounts for another towel, one which I will not go looking for. That is a total of six towels accounted for.
It goes without saying that in a house like ours some towels will be used for sarong duty or as a temporary tent for basement bivouacs. (By the way, whenever something goes without saying you can count on someone saying it.) Anyhow, I expect a certain number of towels have been diverted from their original intent, but after serious investigation, I have determined that my towels have been taken by the Laundry Fairy or are hidden in Iraq where you can hide almost anything.
By the Day 3 I am using a beach towel with Scooby Do and Shaggy on it. Then after that the one odd towel with the name of the famous hotel on it that I swear I've never been to and did not take anything from.
Once these are used I must resort to the thin, frayed, demi-rags we call the Second String Towels. Second String towels are unraveling at both ends, one string at one end and a second string at the other. It takes several of these towels to equal the moisture retention of an ordinary Q-tip. They are the towel-equivalent of Congressmen; they look good folded up just sitting there, but really can't perform any function.
I've given up looking for linens, thrown in the towel so to speak. It's possible that the Laundry Fairy has them, or perhaps our maid. Yes, it turns out we have a maid! I asked Suzanne when the mess in the kitchen was going to get cleaned up and she said, "Why don't you ask the maid?"
Hope this finds you with a towel right out of the dryer,
David
Copyright © 2004 David Smith