Yesterday I did laundry. Which I actually really kind of enjoy, mostly because when it's dry I get to fold it and organize it all. Maybe I'm a freak.
The point is that yesterday, I decided to wash my sheets so that they'd smell all delicious and clean and I'd sleep better and therefore do better on my exams (studying didn't go so well). So I peeled my sheets off the bed, stuffed them in my canvas laundry bag with some shirts and stuff and headed downstairs to the laundry room.
I crammed everything into the washing machine, turned it on and went back upstairs to work with Cameron while everything washed.
41 minutes later we went back downstairs to put the now clean laundry in the dryer.
I began to pull things out of the washing machine and then proceeded to toss them at Cameron so that he could then go put them in the dryer. The following items were thrown at my boyfriend.
I tend to be overdramatic at times, but I was absolutely mortified when I realized that my soft, fuzzy, honey coloured teddy bear had just gone for a wild ride in the Maytag Coinomatic.
For those of you who don't know, I've had Darcy Bear for almost two and a half years and I adore him. He's pretty much the size of a small newborn and flops around if you don't support his neck. He is also "Surface Washable". He's cute. I love that inanimate bear like it's my child.
Well hopefully I'll love my future children more, because, you know, ACCIDENTALLY PUTTING TINY LOVED ONES THROUGH THE WASHING MACHINE IS VERY, VERY BAD.
Then again, babies would probably cry.
And not be mixed up in the laundry.
And they're not teddy bears.
Anyway, Cameron calmed me down a bit and assured me that I will one day be a good parent and this would not happen again. And we put the laundry in the dryer and Darcy Bear air-dried on the windowsill. We are all fine now.
Nevertheless, the whole ordeal left me quite shaken.
It left Darcy Bear smelling like Gain.