All I wanted to do today was to spend the afternoon vegging in front of the TV doing some DVR maintenance (basically, watching all my shows I’ve recorded so I can then delete them and record more!).
But in order to make myself feel better about taking the time to do that, I figured I should do some laundry – you know, the chore that basically does itself while I’m doing something else.
So for the past few weeks, I’ve been meaning to wash the comforter. We bought a new one when we moved in to the townhouse and I’m embarrassed to say it hasn’t been washed. YIKES. But it’s silk and a queen-sized, and honestly, I had no idea how to take care of it. We don’t slip under it, there’s a sheet next to our bodies, so it’s not WAY dirty, but STILL. I needed to wash it.
Husband said I should put it on the coldest, gentlest setting and that jived with what I had read on the internet when I googled “how to wash a comforter.” Because, seriously, I don’t do anything without asking Google how to do it first.
I was able to get the comforter in our washing machine and went upstairs to work on that DVR stuff. :)
Then Husband comes quietly upstairs and just gives me “a look”. You know the one – something’s happened and he doesn’t want to tell me. At first, I thought he was going to tell me that the USA Soccer team just lost against England. That wasn’t it.
He said the comforter wasn’t so much in one piece anymore.
A corner of the comforter had been caught in something in the washer and ripped open – apparently making a big noise, which got Husband’s attention and made him get up from the soccer game [impressive in and of itself, actually!] and check it out.
So it’s halfway clean and partially open with the padding falling out and now completely soaked and I suck. It’s currently in the dryer and then Husband will actually sew it up because I can’t sew.