He-Who-Can-Not-Wait-Patiently

Laundry. Nobody wants to do it, and yet it must be done.

Some things make doing laundry easier- having a load of only towels or sheets for instance. There can be satisfaction when you are able to remove a really bad stain. Furthermore, there is the anticipation of the sense of accomplishment you will feel when it is all finished.

Mostly though, doing laundry stinks. Stains don’t come out. Nice clothes get wrinkled. And once in awhile I think we all have that load in the washer that we forget about and is sour when we finally remember. But the most annoying thing about laundry is the fact that when you think it is over, new clothes start appearing in the basket.

I recently had a dream about doing laundry. Already hooked? I thought so.

I was in some sort of public laundry room, not a laundry mat; there was only one washer and one dryer. It was dark and seemed unfriendly. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“Almost finished?” asked a quiet voice near the door. “Getting close,” I answered without looking. “The washer is empty if you would like to start.”

For some reason, my clothes weren’t getting dry. I opened the dryer door to rearrange the clothes and the voice spoke again. “Finished now?” “No, I am just rearranging the clothes so...” I began, talking into the dryer. He interrupted, “I really need you to finish up.” Startled by the boldness of this stranger I looked up. “Would you accept my assistance?” asked Lord Voldemort. (Lord Voldemort is the super evil villain wizard in the Harry Potter books also referred to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named). “Umm... no... thank you for offering though...” I stammered.

I couldn’t let him know that I know who he is. I didn’t want to act afraid. I just wanted to finish my laundry and get out. From the corner of my eye I saw him moving. He walked toward me, wand drawn. My heart stopped and then restarted beating rapidly. What did he want with me? I had done nothing to upset him!

I stood up to face him and he smiled. “I insist.” He pointed his want at the dryer and the clothes were dry. “Thank you,” I murmured in the midst of a nervous breakdown. I stepped toward the dryer and he put his gross, long fingernailed hand on my shoulder stopping me. He spoke in a flat voice, “What kind of friend would I be if I left you with the worst part yet to be done?” Another flick of the wand and the clothes were flying towards the table folding themselves mid-air.

“Let’s go,” he said. We walked out the door leaving the laundry behind.

Is it worth it to build a friendship with Voldemort in order to have low-hassle laundry experiences? Well, probably not. But I can’t say that it’s not enticing...