Laura on Life

Prewash for really good days

By Laura Snyder

[June 02, 2008]  I love to spend time with my family. Most days, however, it's not possible to spend the entire day with them. If I ask them how their day was or what they did, I usually get a short, noncommittal answer.

That can be frustrating, but I have found a way to determine what I want to know. I use the stains I find in the laundry to help fill in the blanks.

For example, a pair of my son's jeans with grass stains on the knees means that he played some kind of contact sport where running was involved and stopping happened only if there was no other option.

I smile. It looks like he had fun today.

When I want to know who ate the whole end of a watermelon I just bought yesterday, I look at their shirts. Aha! My daughter's orange Hannah Montana shirt has the telltale signs: pink juice drops running down Hannah's face and into the hearts in "I Love to Rock!" The "O's" are hearts.

Ah, but that watermelon must have been delicious! And how often does one get to eat the entire end piece? In our family, it's one in seven watermelons. Hannah, however, may not make it through the laundry without some aggressive prewashing. I bet my daughter would say, "It was totally worth it!"

When my husband comes home after a hard day, he doesn't want to talk about his day, but if I show some understanding, he'll open up.

"I see you were able to get some lunch today," I'll say, staring at the remains of a pizza sauce incident displayed on his shirt.

"Yeah," he says, disgusted. "This was my favorite shirt, too. Do you think the stain will come out?"

The prewash people are making a killing off my family.

It doesn't take long for my husband to catch on to what other people might have called "prescience" if they didn't know my "stain strategy."

"So I guess you've been cleaning the oven today," he says.

I look down at my shirt. It has one clearly defined brown streak on my abdomen and two smaller smudges on each breast. It looks like a caricature of "The Joker" done in sepia.

"Oh man! I've got to learn to take off the oven door before I do that."

I go change my shirt. Prewash can't help this. Oven cleaner can eat through titanium. My shirt didn't stand a chance.

My first-grader came home with a masterpiece on his shirt. I had to know what he'd been doing in school that day. It looked fascinating!

I asked about the purple paint.

"We were painting stars in art. I made purple ones," he stated proudly.

"Good for you. There's no reason that stars can't be purple. How about this red juice?"

"Oh yeah! We made slushies today!"

"Wow! That's great! And these orangish flecks all over?"

"Well, that was my snack. I brought Doritos today."

"Sounds yummy, but maybe we'll try for something healthier tomorrow, OK?"

"OK."

"I see you were playing on the playground today," I said, pointing out the army of dirt smudges marching across his shirt.

"Yep. We were climbing up the slide and pretending it was a castle we were attacking. I bumped my face on someone else's knee and got a bloody nose."

"I was going to ask about those brown stains next," I said, concerned.

"It didn't hurt, though," he said. "Everybody thought I was cool because I didn't cry."

Wow! What a great day he had! I ought to frame that shirt. Lord knows he won't be able to wear it again. Prewash only goes so far. It draws the line at really great days.

[By LAURA SNYDER]

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