With Daddy Bish on a business trip and Munchie out at the farm for a couple days, I had the house to myself. I was completely free of responsibility. I had the opportunity to go anywhere, do anything… and be my OWN boss! So, of course… I put on my party pants and headed out for a crazy night… at the laundromat. (My college self is shaking her head in shame.)

Now, let me explain. I have a perfectly good washer and dryer at home… but sometimes laundry gets backed up. When you have a baby, everyone talks about all of the extra laundry you will be doing. Being the naive pre-parent that you are, you simply think to yourself… “baby clothes aren’t that big… these people are exaggerating.” But what you don’t consider are the copious amounts of ADULT clothes, blankets, comforters, sheets, pillows, plush toys, etc that your tiny human will spew bodily fluids on, splash milk onto, and throw peas at. That’s right my childless friends… baby clothes are just the beginning.

So, I loaded up the car with trash bags of dirty clothes and such… dumped our lifetime saving of change on the floor, to scour for quarters, threw them in a baggie… grabbed the detergent and dryer sheets… and headed to the laundromat.

As I arrived, I had four options of machines… well three… because some inconsiderate person (who was quickly becoming my nemesis) had hogged the largest machines (that are a far better bargain than the smaller ones) and though the washers were finished running, would not retreive her clothing until 30 minutes after my arrival. I began shoving bags of clothes in the washers. A little girl was impressed with my skills, mentioning to her dad, “We should put our clothes in trash bags so we can just rip them open and dump them in… that lady didn’t even sort the colors!” That’s right, small child… cold water is the lazy parent’s best friend. Sorting colors? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

The extreme workout of doing laundry had left me in a sweat, so I took a stroll a few stores down and grabbed a soda. Upon returning to the laundromat, I noticed my rude nemesis was fiddling with her clothes in the giant machines. My smaller machines were also finished, and I started moving my clothes to the dryer bay. She quickly pivots around and squeals, “I WAS USING THOSE!” Umm… sorry lady… didn’t see your name on them, any clothes in them… whatever. I moved my clothes.

To dry your clothes, you have the option of several heat settings. At 25 cents for 6 minutes, you learn to distribute your clothes between as many dryers as possible and crank them to the highest heat setting. This saves time and precious quarters. So… I load up my machines, crank them up, and take my detergent and dryer sheets to the car. When I return, I plop down in a chair and mess around on my phone for about 20 minutes.

I get up to check my clothes, which should be close to dry… and what do I find? SOMEONE HAS FLIPPED MY DRYERS TO LOW HEAT!!!

There is no doubt in my mind that this was the doing of my nemesis… who had once again left her clothes unattended.

I like to believe I took the high road on that particular evening. I could have very easily taken a stroll back to the store, purchased some red Kool-Aid powder, and gotten some revenge… but I didn’t. For that, I pat myself on the back.