Ironing

Who remembers this:

From 2004. Miciah was 3 years old. She told me at the time, "I was holding the iron, and I put it on my face, and it burned me, so I threw it!" Funny. Dangerous and sad, but funny.

Anyways, Rob bought a new wardrobe. This is how you know Rob is feeling good about his weight: he buys new clothes. He's spent good money on snappy new stuff that he looks great in. I'm not complaining about the money he's spent, and I'm DEFINITELY not complaining about how hot he looks in clothes that fit. Just mentioning.

A lot of the shirts he bought are 100% cotton. Which means that if they're ever going to look nice, they'll have to be ironed. Rob wants them to look nice because he's wearing them to his class (the one he's teaching, you know). Which means that I now have a new chore: ironing.

The kids will come and stand beside me as I'm ironing. Miciah ALWAYS mentions the time that she put the iron against her cheek, like it was a telephone. The story, when she tells it, often includes that the phone was ringing and she picked up the iron, thinking it was the phone, and said, "Hello?" This is not true, but it's funny that she's already embellishing her stories.

(Not surprising from the girl who just the other day said, "Mom, I woke up and a mouse was on my hand and I said, "Why, hello, mouse. How are you?" And then it joined the other 10 mice on my bookshelf." First: If a mouse had REALLY been on her hand when she woke up, she would have screamed. Second: I looked at her and said, "Miciah, you don't have to tell us there were 10 mice if there weren't." She said, "But there were!" I looked at her with motherly skepticism. She said, "Well, there were at least 5." I kept looking at her. "There were definitely 3.")

And one time she looked at Teancom and, pointing to the iron, said, "Teancom, NEVER touch that. It'll burn you!" Teancom said, "Okay." Then, after thinking about it for a second, he said, "But Mommy's touching it." Very perceptive, young jedi.

I just think it's interesting that after all this time Miciah is still so afraid of the iron. She told me she was NEVER going to use an iron. I told her that was fine, a lot of people get by just fine without one (just not people who own 100% cotton shirts). But I also told her that if she knew how to use an iron, and used it properly, it wouldn't hurt her.

I also mentioned that nearly EVERYTHING can be dangerous if used improperly. Which started a whole conversation that went something like:
"Can a pencil be dangerous?"
"Yes."
"How?"
...
"Can a piece of paper be dangerous?"
...
"Can a bouncy ball be dangerous?"

Sigh.