By Heather O.
There’s nothing like having to pay to wash your clothes to make you hate your wardrobe.
And, I just have to say, y’all should be proud of me for not losing it when I found, in the laundromat dryer, after I had shelled out more than a coupla bucks to get everything nice and clean, a small red mitten that I have washed AT LEAST 4 TIMES IN THE LAST MONTH THAT HAS YET TO BE WORN.
The dryer repair guy comes on Friday.
On the bright side, my children no longer look like dirty, neglected orphans who were dressed by colorblind chimpanzees.
Stupid standards of cleanliness and, um, matchingness.
Anybody know how to fix a dryer?
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