Bras Don’t Go In The Dryer…
The Education Of A House Fairy

By Max Rankin

byteing-words-braWhen I lost my job I was so depressed that I fell into the classic five-step spiral that happens to most men in this situation:

  1. Self-doubt
  2. Emasculation
  3. Impotence
  4. Cross-dressing
  5. Swapping brownie recipes with Caitlyn Jenner on Facebook

Fortunately, I pulled out of it before I fell into an even lower step―sexual reassignment. Then I told my wife, who was still working, that I was ready to accept my new role as house-husband.

“Great,” she said, “where do you want to start?”

“First off,” I replied, “I need you to tell me how to get in touch with the fairies.”

“The fairies?” she asked.

“You know―the shopping fairy, the cooking fairy, the laundry fairy. The magical creatures who come in and do all the household chores while we’re sleeping.”

“I’ve got news for you, sport. I was the fairy, and now you are.”

“I was afraid of that,” I said.

“Speaking of laundry, there’s a pile of it in the hamper right now. Would you like me to help you get started?” she asked.

“I think I can handle a couple of basic appliances like a washer and dryer,” I said with a sneer. “Uh, the washer is the one on the left, isn’t it?

After an exasperated facepalm, she said, “Yes, but let me warn you. I have a number of expensive and delicate things, and if you ruin them it will cost you, in more ways than one. Also, bras don’t go in the dryer. Ever.”

“I got this,” I said.

But, of course, I didn’t, and I managed to ruin most of the aforementioned delicates within the first week. And it did cost me, in more ways than one. However, in the three months that I’ve had this job, I have never put a bra in the dryer―make that the second dryer because the first one burnt up in the Great Lint Fire of 2016.

In coming installments of this series, we’ll be exploring the worlds of shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Unless I find a job. In which case I’m out of the fairy business.

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