If I had an Iron, I'd Iron in the Morning...

I got a new iron the other day. What a difference an iron makes! Holy Cow. I can’t seem to get enough ironing in these days. I used to forego any shirt or pants that gave me any indication of a wrinkle. Now, I choose to make my morning routine even more hectic by finding those oh-so-cottony fabrics to plug in my new toy.

Have I ever mentioned my history with an iron?

Let me wind back the clock a few years to my days at the University of Iowa. My first real lesson with an iron actually came from my college roommate, Jean Welter, (nka Jean Kehoe, or Mrs. Kehoe to her students). No, my mother never let me touch her iron. (Either she feared my unhandy mannerism would result in injury or she remembered too clearly an incident with a sewing maching that left it broken.) Back to Jean. One Saturday in Iowa City, I find Jean standing before the ironing board with a pile of sheets, t-shirts and jeans to iron. Sheets, t-shirts and jeans. What the?

“Mom, have you ever heard of this?”

“Oh, yes. Some people do that. It’s not that abnormal.”

Fast forward fifteen years, shortly after Doug and I built our house. I was giving a tour to a few ladies from the Bank. When it came to the laundry room, I was somewhat proud to show them my pull-down ironing board, strategically placed in front of our dryer.

“Stefanie, are you left-handed?” Bev asked.

“No, why?”

“Well, you must iron left-handed since you have your ironing board placed that way.”

“Hmm. I guess I do then.”

There you have it. With my new iron and strategically placed ironing board, not only am I ambidextrous, but my sheets, t-shirts and jeans are wrinkle-free as well.