Be careful what you wish for...

I'm on the final count-down finishing a manuscript.The other day I jokingly e-mail my brother, who is working on his manuscript, that I should lock myself in my office and have my husband pass food through the crack until my novel is done.You know what they say, be careful what you wish for...Wednesday night I am happily typing away, words flow like-- molasses off a spoon. I stand up to stretch. I hear the sounds of the Atlanta Braves game my husband has on in the living room. "Crack, roar" Oops, wrong fans cheering,(They are losing...again). I glance through the little glass window in my office door (it's probably thirty years old, but very quaint). A cold root beer will be good right about now.I turn the door handle and nothing happens. I push the little button, off, on, turn again. Nothing. O.K. I laugh to myself. Ooh, I might be locked in. How funny would that be? I jiggle the door handle. I rattle the door handle. I kick the door. By this time I am not giggling. "Trip, trap" Charlie our dog comes in the adjoining sun room through her doggie door. "Charlie, go get your Daddy!" I have visions of Lassie, bounding through the field to save Timmy.
Charlie however, is no Lassie. She looks at me with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, and walks back outside through the doggie door. I guess she has better things to do than to save the one who FEEDS her.
I bang the door loudly with the palm of my hand."Boom", My husband yells though the roar of the Braves game, "Do you need help?"
"Um," I yell back, pressing my lips to the glass window."YEAH,I'M LOCKED IN!"
A screwdriver and hacksaw later, I'm free. My hero. He has to sacrifice the thirty year-old door handle though.
Next time I'm tempted to exaggerate what lengths I will go to in order to finish a manuscript, I'll think twice. Who knows, I could end up worse than being locked in a room. Now that I know I don't have Lassie to rescue me!

Starchy, Steamy, or Tumble

Superior Performance!

Auto Clean System!

Turns off automatically--on its heel rest, on its side, or on its soleplate--and beeps to let you know it's activated!

Sounds vaguely like a space-age sports car?

Wrong, it's my newest purchase, a state of the art---iron.

It seems people fall into three camps concerning ironing:

Camp 1: Manic Laundry Mavens: If it sits still long enough, iron it! These are the folks who iron pillow cases, sheets, blue jeans and yes (my mother-in-law confessed to this once) underwear. These folks steam deliriously away, attacking wrinkles like they are the next great plague of mankind. Everything about them is crisp, crisp, crisp. You know who you are. Your shirt collars point impeccably where they should, instead of curling up at the ends like yesterday's wilted lettuce. These folks are wonderful to visit, their sheets feel like sleeping on satin clouds...Manic Laundry Mavens keep spray starch companies stock going up.

Camp 2: "Maybe I will, maybe I won't": These laundry managers iron on a whim. They are the "refuse to be pigeon-holed people". These free spirits iron favorite articles of clothing; or, not. On any given day you may find them digging furiously in the laundry pile for a clean shirt, or proudly hanging a freshly ironed dress in the closet. Good to have around when you are going to an important event, they don't mind dragging out the old ironing board at a moments notice, since they seem to iron article by article anyway.

Camp 3: "Laundry sucks the life out of me" ironing procrastinators: You see them in the early mornings when others are pulling out of the driveway heading for work: they are pushing the "on" button on the dryer to tumble their shirt one last time in a vain attempt to relax some of the wrinkles.These ironing procrastinators have the nicest, newest looking irons in the neighborhood...because they never get used.

I refuse to tell you which camp I fall into. Information like that could ruin my reputation, not to mention my relationship with my mother-in-law. Now, excuse me while I hit the "on" button one more time on my dryer. It's almost time to leave for work...