Mom told me to go get the towels out of the dryer and put them in the laundry basket. No problem! I like the nice, warm towels. So I did that. Then she told me to take the wet washclothes and dish towels and things out of the washer and put them in dryer.
I have this… thing. I guess you could call it a pet peeve, but I’ll just call it a “thing.” I hate, hate HATE touching wet fabric, especially towels. Sopping wet things are ok, actually. slightly damp things are ok. It’s that in-between wet state that I hate. They make my fingernails hurt, and my teeth, too. I don’t know why. I just can’t stand it.
The reason my aunt sometimes calls me “The Hook” is because I once used this plastic prop scythe I have to get the wet clothes out of the washer without touching them. Well, I didn’t know where it is, offhand, so mom told me to go get this little hookie-thing that dad has and use that. It’s a little claw type thing used to get like, screws and nails and stuff out from behind work benches and what not. Well, I couldn’t find that. So I tried a hanger. It didn’t fit down into the washer too well. I looked around for anything else I could use, and I finally spotted the hammer up on top of the fridge in a box. I couldn’t quite reach it, so I stood on top of a 12-pack box of coke cans. The hammer was tangled up in something so it took me a few jerks to get it free. It was on the last jerk that the side of the coke box split, causing me to lose my footing and making all the cokes come flying out across the laundry room.
I then used the hammer to get the 5 wet washclothes out of the washer and into the dryer, picked up the coke cans and put the hammer away.
I’m pretty satisfied with myself for not touching those wet washclothes.