Dark? White? Pink?

pink shirt

I'm sure I've written this post before.  But dag gone it, it's happened again.  I thought I had it figured out, but this time, almost on national television.

When the Today show producers were taping last month, I was told to proceed with my normal routine.  I’d tossed at load of clothes in the laundry the night before and pulled them out that morning to fold as the kids were getting ready for school.

With the camera zoomed in on my basket of darks, there it sat:  Michelle’s school uniform shirt.  Normally it’s white; that day it was pink.  Beside it was a t-shirt, bright fuchsia.  They were a perfect match.

How humiliating.  Here I was, working to put my best foot forward, and the first thing they saw were my laundry inadequacies.

The camera man just smiled.  I let out a mild explicative.

I don’t understand.

I thought if I washed in cold it didn’t matter if a couple of lights got caught in the middle of their blue jeans and tie dyes.  Sometimes, in the interest of time, I integrate the assortment of garments and shove them in my large capacity washer together.  Unity.  Solidarity.  One.

Most of the time, the whites come out white and the darks keep their color.  But occasionally, I get this mess.  Why is that?  Does pink bleed or does it not?  Or does it bleed only when it wants to embarrass me in front of everyone who watches the Today Show?

I understand bleach.  I get dryer sheets.  A Tide stick is as clear as day.  I’m not a laundry moron.  And yet, this has me perplexed.

I don’t know why, but I clean out the lint compartment every time I dry a load.  That’s what I was taught, and I follow through.

When my washer gets off-balance and dances across the basement floor like Wynonna doing the Mamba, I open the door and readjust.

But these things are consistent.  They don’t change from load to load.

I wish that bleeding would do the same.

I tried to convince Michelle that pink was cool.

“It’s your favorite color!  It matches your Hunter rain boots and your favorite hair bow.”

“I’m not wearing that shirt!”

“Have you ever seen Happy Days?  There was this really cool girl called Pinky Tuscaderro.  Let me show you a clip.”

Not even a nibble.

It could have been worse.  The producer of Today could have used that clip as part of the segment broadcast to millions of people throughout the country.  Thankfully, they used constraint.  How humiliating that would have been.

Incidentally, I was running short on time this week and washed all of her clothes together: red and yellow, black and white.  And guess what?  They all came out their original color.  This really doesn't make any sense to me.