The Red Sock
When I was a girl, too many years ago to count (and don’t try), my mom gave me a lesson on how to do laundry. Back then it was the appropriate thing for mothers to do for their daughters. Funny, I’m not so sure that with this generation of girls who don’t cook, clean, do laundry or anything At Home that it’s not still an appropriate lesson; but that my friends is another article for another time. Meanwhile, back at the ranch or back to my story; Mom taught me the basics of how to do laundry with the traditional three pile system; you know - whites, dark colors and light colors in three separate piles. Because I don’t have daughters I taught my son the laundry basics (and cooking basics) so he would be equipped with a minimal understanding of how to survive before and during the marriage. What I learned from my mother At Home was transferrable to my son, and I’m happy to say his whites are white, and his lights and darks remain the correct shades and colors. Thanks, Mom!
Recently my simple task of laundry was anything but simple… It was epic, colossal, unimaginable; it was horrible, horrendous, a complete catastrophe; it was a laundry nightmare! Now that you are on the edge of your seat holding your breath in anticipation, experiencing heart palpitations while enduring the suspense (or maybe not), waiting to find out what happened, here it is… It was almost like the cowboy movies of yesteryear when the hero prances into town wearing all white and the villain trots boldly on to the dusty streets passing by the vacant hotels and the busy saloons adorned in menacing black clothes and a tall black hat. Well, in my story the villain was one red sock cowardly hiding inconspicuously between my garments ready to completely ruin my organized pile of white. And much to my chagrin, it did just that. The red sock culprit produced a lovely girly pink hue in every blouse, dress shirt, tee-shirt, and towel and now my collection of underwear is all pink except for those that were sitting happily, giggling in my dresser drawer waiting for their turn to be worn. Okay, so my clothes were clean…BUT, THEY WERE PINK!
This episode in the At Home adventures of Shellie Layne (I like that!) made me think about how when we maintain a poor or ungrateful attitude, are stressed, depressed, discontent and in despair our emotions are like that infamous red sock; they bleed over into everything we do at home, at work, and into our relationships. Everything we come in contact with is changed forever like my unsuspecting load of white clothes. Whatever the “red sock” is in your load, an albatross of un-forgiveness, pain, anger, bitterness, envy; shall I go on? Find its hiding place, separate it and give it the care and attention it needs before it bleeds over into more delicate and precious areas of your life.
Finally, as you might have imagined my laundry escapade was quite daunting and there was absolutely nothing I could do to change my whites back to their original color; however, I have decided to check out the advertised color block laundry sheets. I thought because of my decades of doing laundry and my proclaimed “At Home” savvy I would never need such a silly product – after all, who would dare get a red sock mixed with an all-white load of laundry? Silly me!
“I don’t have all the answers but, I know the One who does.”
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