Now there is something I really must tell you, which I find quite funny, although children tend to think it's lame.
Sidekick (a friend of mine) works in a school around a large amount of miniature people of young ages, also called children. In this world everything is miniature. There are small miniature desks and chairs to accommodate these small not quite full grown people. So, Sidekick looks like a giant in such an environment. He also makes a point of ordering the tiniest coffees. So, when he arrives at the school, he is holding this small cup that makes his hand look huge. Then Sidekick sits down in a little chair meant for seven year-olds. He then makes really lame jokes that go like this "Hey look! I'm a giant in a small chair with this little cup of coffee. Look I'm such a giant!" Isn't that funny? Well I think so.
But, the kids look at him and don't find his jokes all that funny. But the less funny they think the joke is, the more funny I think it is. Maybe I'll even get him one of those giant pencils that they have at toy stores to make his joke more realistic.
So, what of all this talk of giants? It may all seem irrelevant. But, giants are people too, no matter what mainstream media tells you. Anyways, I usually don't feel like a giant, but last week I found myself in a situation in which I could identify with Sidekicks feelings of giantness. I will continue to illustrate this point by something telling you a seemingly unrelated event.
I managed to let my pile of laundry get unmanageably large this week. So finally, I went down to the basement to fiddle with this problem. I began to do laundry. I put the whites with the whites (although I don't really own any white clothing), the blacks with the blacks and the delicate fabrics with the delicate fabrics.
Well, we got some new washing machines that are green friendly. I still haven't figured out to use them. So, with the delicate clothing, I pressed "lights" well because they were all light colored clothing (light blue, teal and the like). And then I read the instructions posted on the machine "Light= hot water." Oh fiddlesticks! That means I am going to shrink my cashmere sweater (and my super warm wool socks from Finland)! I frantically pressed other buttons on the machine, but nothing changed. I should have read the directions! I went back upstairs and made myself a cup of tea as I waited for my clothes to wash and hoped for the best.
When I went back downstairs, I took the delicate clothing out and realized my sad lot. My favorite (and only) cashmere sweater looked a bit smaller than normal. So, I set my sweater out to dry on the counter and using all my might, stretched it as long as I could, but the fibers seemed a bit too tight and I managed to rip a small hole in it during my stretching exercise.
Finally the sweater dried so I sausaged myself into it. Despite the stretching, it did not fit anymore. I pulled and tugged at the sweater in hopes of making it fit, but all hope was dashed when I realized nothing would work. I looked like a giant stuffed into a tiny piece of fabric meant for a seven year old. I looked hideous and so, like any good woman, I despaired and my cup of tea and I commiserated. I then went through my mental Rolodex of seven-year-olds I know that might want a cashmere sweater but came up empty handed. If you know any, please let me know.
So if you want to feel like a giant, go ahead and wreck a cashmere and then try to fit into it. And if you want to wreck a sweater, I can tell you how.
And also, don't be like me, rather read the directions before you execute an action.