I confess. I like ironing.
I iron in front of the TV, often with cup of tea or a glass of wine nearby. The simple back and forth motion of the iron as it erases creases, the whoosh of steam from the vents, working my way through a pile and watching it transform into neat little stacks. I find the time both relaxing and productive.
Tees, tanks, pants, dresses, pillowcases… yes, I iron them all.
Though don’t go getting any ideas. I do not do other people’s ironing.
As my mother would say, “your clothes, your choice”. I choose ironing.