Lynn's Comments: I hate ironing. I am not alone here...I can hear a cry rising from the masses - men and women alike screaming "I HATE IRONING!!!" And so, I don't do it - unless I absolutely have to. This means hanging stuff in the bathroom as I take a shower, hoping the steam will do the trick. I buy clothes that can be stuffed in a suitcase and worn immediately. I buy clothes with stripes to camouflage the wrinkles. I get a friend to do it. Anything to keep myself from having to handle that spitting, hissing demon in my laundry room that always seems to have some crud in it. You know...that "scale" or whatever it is that will spit out of those little steam holes onto your cherished garment and stain it permanently with some brown smudge, right at the crotch or some other really visible place. I hate ironing.
Having said that, however...if I could iron the wrinkles out of my face, I would definitely change my tune. I would embrace that miserable device and use it daily - singing its praises to the end of the earth! But this is not possible. There is no iron for the wrinkles on my countenance... the fabric of my face must remain as nature decrees. I am au natural, gracefully declining in my retirement, accepting wrinkles with confidence and dignity. I can't iron my face, but the irony (iron-y?) is....... those #**!*% spots come anyway!!!
