I MEAN WELL when I head to the laundry room to iron my husbands badly wrinkled shirts. I try to think about my grandmother and mother before me who slaved over a hot iron with a happy smile and a song to press their loving husbands shirts. I mean why not? The man of the house goes to work each and every day to earn the bread money.
But the end result is always the same:WE LIVE IN AN AGE where rockets are orbiting into space, computers are the size of jelly beans, and your car can parallel park by itself! So why oh why have we not invented an easier way to remove a wrinkle from my husband's shirt!!!