Blowing in the Wind

I had one thing to remember yesterday afternoon.  One thing.  I needed to toss the load of laundry from the washer into the dryer before Reese needed her neon green tee shirt for her final night of dance camp.

Instead, I remembered the laundry seven minutes before we were scheduled to leave the house, right when I already was warily glancing at the clock and urging the kids to focus-and-eat-faster-so-we-won't-be-late.  I left my place at the table, dashed upstairs, tossed the shirt into the dryer, cranked the settings to high, and hoped that a few minutes would be enough.

They weren't.  The shirt was still significantly damp when I directed the girls to the minivan.

That is, the shirt was damp until a stroke of genius bought me ten extra minutes of all-natural air circulation during the drive.

I'm still patting myself on the back.  That shirt was perfectly dry when we arrived.  Well played, Robin.


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