Totally gross, all-boy boys + mandatory white uniform tops + no hot water = what the heck?
This sounds like a laundry nightmare if I've ever heard of one.
Every Friday morning we tackle a giant pile of completely filthy, stinky white polos.
I would never attempt such a mission alone.
I'd like to introduce you to a few of the sweetest blessings in my life.
Dominique and Soso (and family)
The husband (Dominique) works for us sometimes in the evenings. He's the one that told me not to get too close to naked men. The wife (Soso) is here with me during the day. She does not speak English, so that's been a great incentive for me to learn Creole. Even with the language barrier, I adore her. Every day we work and laugh together.
One of Soso's many, many talents is helping me make sure our boys have clean uniform shirts for school. Every Friday morning we start our laundry routine. I sort the laundry. Spray and Wash is used in abundance. Soso starts scrubbing the white polos by hand. She insists. After I tried for weeks to get the stains out of the white polos, I finally asked her what I should do. She yanked that shirt out of my hand and well...she totally schooled me. Lesson learned. I will always ask her for advice sooner.
While Soso is in the kitchen scrubbing shirts, I'm down in the laundry room filling washing machines up with a water hose. I turn on the washing machine, see the tiny trickle of water that is intermittently starting and stopping, and I immediately diagnose the machines with urinary tract infections. It's the only explanation for that thin sliver of inconsistent water. It would take forever for me to get all our laundry finished with a flow that low, so I use the trusty hose.
Wow. Does this picture make anyone else need to pee?
I spend a lot of time in the laundry room. Unfortunately so do the resident rats. I will never get used to that part of my new life. I'm not complaining...I'm just sayin'.
Me and the hose. We're great friends.
Back at the house, we boil a giant pot of water. Add bleach. Soak shirts for about three hours. Then we wash them in the washing machine. Hang those suckuh's on the line in the hot Haiti sun to dry...and wah-lah.
Mama and Soso send the Hendrick boys to school in style. Those boys promptly gross up their clothes (some days before the whistle blows). Soso and I sigh and shake our heads when they walk in the house after school with their lunch and half the playground's dirt smashed into their shirts. We know...in a few days we'll start the laundry dance all over again. Same time. Same day. Same partners. Thankfully, I couldn't have a better laundry partner.
In case you are wondering if I was kidding in the previous post...
I wasn't. The birthing room got a face lift at Heartline this week.