My mother-in-law offers to wash my pants

Posted by Ellie Omahoney at 17:53 on 17 Jun 2009

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F-i-l’s flat doesn’t have a washing machine. We only discovered this when, having collected a monster load of laundry to do on Saturday morning, we failed to find a machine to put it in.

I call F-i-l at at his real home (the one with more than one bedroom).

Me: ‘We can’t find the washing machine. Am I missing something?’

F-i-l: ‘Um [puzzled pause]’ ‘Did you have one in your old flat?’

Me: [even more puzzled pause] ‘Erm, yes, how do you think we got our laundry done?’
               
F-i-l: [long silence] ‘I don’t know, really. How do people get their laundry done?’

I truly didn’t know how to respond to that. Are there really men left in the world who have never put a wash on because they’ve spent their lives hiding behind their domesticated [delete where appropriate] mother/school matron/wife?

A few hours’ later, in Battersea Park Road’s laundry (no Levi models there), I get a call from M-i-l. Do we want to drop our washing off with her on our way to that wedding in Cambridge tomorrow? F-i-L must have filled her in about our washing woes.

So, in summation, I’ve moved back in with my father-in-law and now my mother-in-law's going to wash my smalls. The shame.

 

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