Carrying the love

Sometimes my mother irons my tour shirts for me. She first started offering last year, when my at home time between tours was all about caring for my brother and I was almost incapable of much more than the bare functions required to get through.

Since then, she’s offered a couple of times and I’ve taken her up on it. I hate ironing so much, although once upon a time I was a Stepford Wife  and even ironed my husband’s boxer shorts. But I suck it up for a professional work look and I iron my uniform.

When she offers, I always say yes. It isn’t about perfectly ironed shirts for professionalism. It’s because every time I put on an ironed shirt that she has done for me, I feel the love.

I will always want her to iron my shirts as a tangible reminder of our loving relationship when I’m not there in person.


About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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