Pucker Up

My mom loves to iron. In fact, when I was a kid, she ironed my jeans. That's right, creases in the jeans. I think I hid my jeans, just so they couldn't be ironed. I hate to iron. Negotiating a hot iron can be difficult, one look at my forearms is proof of this. But I did learn from my mother that clothes that are ironed look more classy than wrinkled ones. So I iron.



My husband is a college football coach. On game day I like to iron his clothes so he looks classy when he wins. This past Saturday I was in a hurry and I put a hot iron, a hot iron set to "wool," onto 100% polyester game-day pants that require a "cool iron." The result? Puckered pants.



I went to my husband with a sorry face and "exhibit A."



His reply? "You can pucker my pants any time."



It's good to be loved.