When I was finishing up a nice hot shower, I decided that it was time to wash the shower curtain and liner. There were a couple of loads already in the queue, so we had to finish those first. And then it was time. I started the washer filling with hot water, put in the detergent, and started removing the curtain and liner from the shower rod. Let me state right here and now that I do not find the hanging or removal of shower curtains to be even remotely fun, or even amusing or entertaining.
Why are those darn curtain rings so difficult to get along with? If they are easy to get the curtains on, they also seem to let go of them every time you slide them on the rod. You get ready to take a nice refreshing or relaxing shower, climb in and pull the curtain, and then the darn thing starts falling off the rings. You find yourself naked in a drafty shower, trying to get the curtains hooked up again. And if you're like me and have poor vision, it becomes even more of a challenge. Your glasses are on the counter, so you alternate between squinting and trying to do it entirely by feel. You could get out and put your glasses on, but even with the curtain dragging, the shower feels less frigid than the bathroom itself. Also, you have built up some steam from being aggravated by the stinking hooks.
We had that type of hooks for many years, so when we moved into this apartment a few years ago, we decided to get a new shower curtain, liner and rings. I found these wonderful chrome rings with bead-ish things on the tops to make sliding easier. They also fasten nicely so that the curtains don't fall off when they are moved around. We got them set up, all easy-peasy, with the eagerness that you can only have from wanting all of the moving stuff to be over and done with, thank you very much. Who remembers what it was like to put them on the first time? Not me. I was achy and tired from packing and moving stuff, and eager to have a nice shower.
So when it comes time to wash the lovely white curtain and cloth liner, I always seem to have forgotten how much not-fun it was to get them down and back up again. Those wonderful, useful rings need a grip worthy of Hercules to be opened up. So I stop the washer from filling, knowing I need a couple of minutes to get these curtains down. After a few minutes of uncomfortable neck-craning and squeezing and tugging, the curtains are down. I gather them in my arms and start to put them in the washer. And that's when I see The Label.
You know about The Label. It has the instructions for laundering and drying and such. Sometimes you might not read it until you've thrown a shirt in the washer with other stuff that looks and feels like it, and then tossed it in the dryer. When you remove it, it looks like it is just the right size for a miniature version of you, or maybe even a chihuahua. Then you see The Label, which says something like Cold wash only, gentle cycle. Dry flat. Mm-hmm. So anyway, as I was getting ready to stuff the shower curtains into the washer, I caught sight of The Label. Machine wash cold. What the heck? Here's a voluminous piece of cloth that drapes over the inside of the bathtub and gets pounded with hot water and slopped with soap on a regular basis. And now you tell me it's too delicate to be in the hot water I'd like to use to wash away even the thought of mildew? How does that make any sense? I don't get it, not even remotely.
Luckily, the washer has only a little bit of hot water in the bottom, and the stuff coming out of the pipes is about one degree away from frozen, so all is well. When they come out of the washer, unscathed, The Label says they should be dried on the lowest setting. Our apartment clothes dryer doesn't have a low setting, so we decided to just hang them back on the rod to air dry. Sort of like using an indoor clothesline that you don't have to remove the dry articles from later. Trent was kind enough to offer help. Sucker. After spending a few minutes with his neck craned in an unnatural position while trying to hang the curtains, I'm sure he's decided to call in sick the next time they need to be hung or taken down. I can't blame him a bit.
In the morning the liner will be exposed to hot, steamy water again. I don't know how it survives the torture. In a day or two I will forget the fun times I had and the whole thing will come as a surprise to me the next time I give them a wash. We have to forget our little annoyances or else we'd be tempted to never wash them again. And when I stuff them in the washer and catch sight of The Label again, I'll have the same silly reaction...I don't get it!