All I wanted for Christmas was a new ironing board, one that wasn’t rusted, and a new iron, one that didn’t spit brown water on my clothes. My current versions were at least twenty years old and deserved retirement. Thanks to family members, I got both.
It’s now almost two months down the road from Christmas, and I must say the ironing board is great. But the iron, a Rowenta, isn’t. It doesn’t get hot enough for steam. So today I took it back to where I’d bought it. Or at least I thought I’d bought it at Joann’s in Benton Harbor.
Turns out I bought it on Joann’s online, since the local store didn’t have the one in stock which was my preference. However, the brick-and-mortar assistant manager, Sabrini, took up my case as if I were her best friend. She researched my online account with Joann, found the order number, even though I showed up without a box or a receipt, and ultimately gave me a credit.
Currently, I am iron-less, and Earl has noted that my ironing is stacking up. Perhaps this is an opportunity to jettison ironing, although I’m not sure I can do this cold turkey. Besides, a friend has offered her extra iron in the meantime.
If you read yesterday’s blog, you know my current mantra: Irony . . . the opposite of wrinkly.
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