Clothes Washing 101

How could an 18 year old have made it all the way to college without knowing what a washing machine was? Thank goodness Mom's there to show him the ropes.

By DENISE ADAMS

As my 18-year-old son nears the end of his high school career, I know I haven't fully prepared him for college. This crucial oversight was driven home when I asked him to take some clothes out of the dryer.

He had a perplexed look on his face, and I realized he didn't understand the connection between his clothes and the washing machine. For him, dirty clothes magically disappear from the floor of his room and reappear as clean, folded clothes on the living room couch. Now that it's time for him to head off to college, it's time to burst that bubble.

I've never given our teen-ager a grand tour of the unexplored real of the house for him - the laundry room. Taking my son by the hand, I told him it was time for his solo career to begin, and we'd start with Laundry Basics 101.

First of all, he needed to understand the equipment.

"This is a washing machine," I told him, placing my hand on top of the Kenmore machine that's served our family well for 15 years.

"And this," I said, pointing to the Maytag that's performed valiantly for the last dozen years, "This appliance is the dryer."

I explained he would no undergo a step-by-step lesson in washing his own clothes. He's a smart kid and realized he needs to pay attention, especially after I reminded him his girlfriend does not consider the aroma of "au natural sweat" emanating from clothes he's worn two or three times appealing.

"First, get all your dirty clothes and bring them downstairs so we can sort them," I told him.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself staring at a formidable pile of dirty clothes in the middle of the kitchen floor. We had more than enough clothes for a true lesson in the complete scope of clothes washing, not just the basic blue jeans and cotton towels.

"The first step is sort the clothes into whites and darks," I told him. That was easy enough, and he began wading through his sweaty pile of clothes.

"Okay, two loads of clothes - this shouldn't take too long," he said 10 minutes later, standing back and admiring two gargantuan piles.

"Wrong. You cannot wash that many clothes at one time - you'll break the machine," I told him, proceeding to show him how to sort his clothes into washing machine acceptable loads by weight, color and fabric.

He paid close attention; especially after I informed him we weren't buying him a new wardrobe if he accidentally washes a maroon A&M sweatshirt with all his white socks.

I told him to grab the pile of undershirts and white socks and follow me into the laundry room. He listened quietly as I explained the different wash cycles, and he actually asked intelligent questions about laundry detergent, fabric softener and why there's a cold-water wash cycle.

When we got to the dryer, he showed the same interest, especially when I mentioned if he crammed too many clothes in the dryer, he'd spend precious hours ironing his clothes instead of hanging out with his friends at the local watering hole.

As we closed the lid on the washing machine, listening to the washer chug away, he cleaned out the dryer lint trap, stopped and it looked like a light bulb went on in his head.

"Let me get this straight - I can wash dark T-shirts with blue jeans, but I can't wash dark -shirts with my white socks," he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

I felt like Professor Henry Higgins with Eliza Doolittle in "My Fair Lady." My laundry-challenged teen-ager had transformed into a young man capable of conquering the permanent press cycle on the washing machine.

I believe my new Aggie will come home this fall with white T-shirts and maroon shirts instead of all his clothes the same shade of pink. In life, there's nothing like an education, regardless of whether it occurs in an academic hall or a family laundry room.

Next week, it's Dorm Room Cooking 501. Professor, I think we've got it.

Denise Adams is a columnist with The Herald-Coaster, a daily newspaper in Rosenberg, Texas.