Le 19 fevrier One of the things that was hardest to get used to originally was washing my clothes by hand. At home, I’m able to throw my dirty clothes into the washing machine, go off and take care of other tasks, later throw the clothes into the dryer and again go off to other things. Needing to put aside a few hours to wash clothes and then leave at least a few hours (on a very sunny day, sometimes it may take a whole day) for the clothes to dry.
The benefit of my parents staying in our house for a few nights is that they are able to get clean clothes. But not the easy way.
My dad may have thought I was joking when I told him we’d be pulling out the washboard and bucket on their only Saturday of their vacation. No no. After mass at the church and breakfast, we gathered up all the belongings that needed to be washed and got down to business. I showed each of my parents the procedure, then allowed both a turn. As he scrubbed, my dad muttered “So what did you do on your vacation, John?”
With each piece of clothing that came quickly clean, my dad beamed and gave reason to the fact that he’d Scotchgarded everything they’d brought with them. We needed, also to be washing what we’d worn during our gorilla and golden monkey adventures. Jeans are always a pain in the rear, but ones that are covered in dirt are a little trickier. My jeans were decently dirty as well as my mothers’, but my dad’s looked as though he’d rolled around in the dirt. Or, we joked, buffalo dung that we’d seen along the path.
All three of us had to take a turn scouring the jeans. Resolving to be finished with the majority of the “dung” washed from the pants, Mom and I said tauntingly (as Dad swears by the stuff), “looks like even Scotchgard isn’t buffalo-proof!”
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