My mother used to iron my father's boxers. Also, sheets.

He wasn't in/under them was he?

My mom still irons her sheets. I think she draws the line at underwear, though.

Oh, I don't *like* doing dishes or laundry, but I don't really mind them either. I'd prefer not to do them because I am lazy as hell, but, eh, I do them.

But cleaning the bathroom is like a punishment for everything I've ever done and ever will do wrong.

Have I ever mentioned that my sister irons jeans?

We had to iron our dungarees in the Navy. Because a properly ironed set of dungarees were ironed inside out and along the seams so that when you turned the pants right side out the seams pointed inwards. And the shirts had a crease down each side in front and two creases (evenly spaced) in the back. And they had to be starched. Oh, dog, the cans of starch I had. I took all my shirts to the cleaners in when I was stationed in Spain. I could get 5 shirts ironed for, I don't remember, 5 or 10 bucks for lot. Got back to the states and the laundry on base wanted 5 bucks a shirt. I got intimately reacquainted with my cans of starch.

My grandmother ironed everything. She was a very anxious person thanks to an abusive first marriage, and I think ironing was therapy for her.

I learned to iron on my dad's handkerchiefs and the pillowcases. All my sheets are 100% cotton, and while I would love to have ironed pillowcases, I do the fold in thirds and stick on the bottom of the pile type of ironing. I did iron a lot restoring antique and vintage clothes, quilts, and doll clothes, plus I helped in the costume shop, as well as doing wardrobe for several shows.

I used to wear cotton clothing--tuxedo shirts, gathered skirts, and I didn't mind ironing to get the right look. Now I get out the iron for things like a length of lace or ribbon I'm using to decorate something. We have an ironing board, but I'd rather throw a towel over the breakfast bar or the dining table than wrestle it out of the claws where it hangs on the closet wall.

I can't remember the last time I ironed something. AIFG!

DH irons. I don't. He does a fantastic job. When I asked him where he learned, he said he did a search and found a website for trans women that really nailed the process in a way he could totally understand. I wish we still had it bookmarked because the blog was totally charming.

Owen told me today that he thinks he's asexual. I picked him up from basketball practice and we were talking about the boys on the team. The subject of girlfriends came up and I asked him if he liked a girl. "No," he said. I asked him if he liked a boy. "No. I think I'm asexual."

I paused and asked him what that meant. He said, "It means I don't have any romantic interest in boys or girls."

He hasn't hit puberty yet but I've been suspecting this for a while. Liv announced her first boyfriend in the second grade. She loves boys.

I think our iron is only used to pop dents out of wood.

I will clean bathrooms

I will not vacuum - so there is only one rug in the house.

And if some one would hang up my clothes -- I'll put the rest away...

so I will do dishes, sweep floors, feed the cats, do the laundry, grocery shop , cook sometimes,

not crazy about cleaning the liter box

dusting I sometimes do because you should...

someone else can change the bed . or at least help