First load of laundry brings on anxiety

“This summer,” my mom began, “We are going to have Home Economics 101. You are going to learn to cook and sew and — ”

And that was about where I stopped listening. I’d been listening to the same speech for the last five summers. But between friends and jobs, I always managed to get out of the extra work.

But last summer I had to face the fact that in three months I couldn’t lean on the parental unit anymore. I was especially worried about laundry. I like shopping for new clothes, but not because all my old clothes were accidentally shrunk and dyed pink. And thus a chunk of my summer was spent sorting the whites from the colors and measuring cups of Tide. It was easy, I could do as many loads as I needed and our washer and dryer had multiple options to ensure your clothes wouldn’t be ruined. Plus help was a mere “Mom!” away.

But laundry dorm-style was different. First I kept forgetting things and, out of fear that someone would steal my dirty clothes, dragged my hamper up and down two flights of steps at least twice. I was then shocked to discover that there were exactly six buttons on the dryer. The simplicity was not reassuring. I had no control over spin speed and there wasn’t an option for the darks, of which I had a lot.

But a month had almost passed and I was running out of clothes. And so, picking up the first load of whites and giving my favorite top a last look, I tossed them in.

I then spent a good five minutes looking for the nonexistent pull-out drawer where I could put the detergent in because that’s how it worked at home.

Finally, I put my quarters in and hit the button. I then spent the next 26 minutes in fear. What if all my clothes were going to be messed up? Then what would I wear? How much money would I have to spend on new stuff? That washer was shaking a lot — was it supposed to do that? What if bubbles began spilling out of the machine … well, actually that last one would be kind of cool.

But in the end my clothes survived the washer, and the dryer as well. Anticlimatic? Maybe. Having all my clothes survive my first load of laundry away from home? I’m sure mom believes it’s nothing short of a miracle.