Visitors to my home quickly notice housecleaning is not one of my strengths. Far from it. I’m a believer in ‘good enough’ rather than ‘good’ in this area; living with a husband and three cherubs aged 15, almost 13 and 12 – none of whom I’ve managed to train with any huge degree of success in ‘tidiness’ let along ‘cleanliness’? – this is a battle I choose to NOT pick. Sanity trumps in this matter.
Not that I enjoy the clutter and dirt. I do what I can, within the limits of my sanity and potentially-undiagnosed-OCD-ness. And preparedness helps too.
For example, I buy clothes which don’t need ironing. And which don’t require specialised ‘wash-by-hand’ instructions. Yes, I’m one of *those* people who read the clothes labels!
The other day though, I was bamboozled, flummoxed, mystified (pick your adjective because I’m still so puzzled by this turn of events, I can’t!) because I read the label on my new five-pack of sports socks only when I was home, removing the tags.
Did you catch those bullet-points? The bottom one proudly asserting these socks were resistant to washing and dry-cleaning?
Resistant to washing. Really. On SOCKS???
If there’s anything you’d want for socks – arguably the clothing item prone to the most dirt and smell – you’d want them to love being washed! To embrace the process of cleansing; to relish the removal of smell and dirt and grime from their pores. To long for it, be eager for it, desiring all else to be clean, be greedy for the water and soap detergent more than any other clothes, to savour the cleanliness at the end of the process… and so on and so forth.
To deliberately design clothes – especially socks – with ‘washing resistance’? I don’t know. I guess I’m missing something here. Because to me, that simply beggars belief.
Here’s hoping you have a more enlightened day yourself, dear Reader!