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| Good times old stinky blanket |
Last weekend we had some great sunshine, so mum started on a spring clean, like a woman possessed, everything that was fabric and wasn’t tied down was hauled with no mercy in to the washing machine, and blasted by sunshine outside to dry.
All was well I thought as I sleepily padded around the house watching people being ordered around. So up to the bedroom to strip the bed of sheets to go into the wash. As I sat in my basket watching the madness unfold, she marches over to my basket and gestures for me to stand up and move. “What?, oh no it’s ok, my bed’s fine thanks, you carry on. No really it doesn’t need done, honest” the next thing I knew she had hold of the corner of my blanket and was prising it out from beneath me. She pulled it out to one side, held it at arm’s length and indignantly said “that stinks!” “Thank you” I said “it’s good isn’t it.” Mum threw it in amongst the other pile of bed linen destined for the washing machine and said “it’s going out, I will get you a new one”.
“A new one! but you don’t understand, my blanket is like walking through the kitchen of a fine dining restaurant, it’s full of interesting smells and flavours. You sometimes take a book to bed to read before nodding off, well I do the same, I read my blanket. It’s like a personal diary of all the places I’ve been and things I’ve done. I sniff my way around the blanket remembering good times, like the beach and the time I went through the stinky puddle with my shoes on, before I drift off to sleep, you can’t erase it!”
The next thing I know I’m gently bobbing along the floor sitting on the washing pile as it is being dragged towards the door, “come on mum, be reasonable, reconsider”. As we headed down the stairs I was now in a full blown belly flop tantrum, laid full length on my tummy, pulling on the washing pile as I sledged head first down the stairs towards the laundry room. Nooooo Please!
As the washing pile was dragged into the laundry room, the door shut in my face, it was over. I could hear her wrestling with my blanket behind the door, various clunks, and clangs as she forced it against its will into the erasing machine. At one point I saw the shadow of her walking past the door window with a wooden stick to beat it into submission before the machine door finally shut.
She then opened the laundry door to see me sitting there, “don’t worry” she said “I will replace it with something nice that’s much easier to wash in future.
I’m in a huff, I’ll be upstairs on your seat of the couch, sulking, do not disturb. Pfft
Not long after that, she appeared again, this time with a tape measure, “what now” I grumbled, “I’m in a huff, leave me be”.
I’m measuring you for a new bed “she said.
“I don’t want a new bed, I want my old bed back”. Sure enough later that day a new pillow arrived for my basket. Fleece on one side for the winter and water proof on the other, and yep it has a removable washable cover. Life stinks! or rather it doesn’t anymore.
