My Drabble is up at The Drabble. Thank you’s go to Tom Haynes, editor!
I’m teaching my granddaughters to iron shirts—collar, sleeves, right front, back, left front. I almost say, “You’ll impress some guy in college knowing this.”
Whoa!
Maybe that’s why my marriage (to that guy I impressed) ended after I read Friedan. Now women say, “Press your own damn shirt,” and men do. No wonder my granddaughters aren’t impressed with counting hangers of starched perfection.
End of lesson: “Always turn the iron off and unplug it to make sure,” I say.
“It turns itself off, Grandma.”
“But you can’t be too careful,” I say, and shit, I sound old.
Sarah Russell’s poetry and flash fiction have appeared in Kentucky Review, Misfit Magazine, Psaltery and Lyre, Rusty Truck, and many other journals and anthologies. She is a 2017 Pushcart Prize nominee.
Sarah Russell Poetry 
Congratulations!
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Thanks so much. Love to write drabbles.
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Your writings are very beautiful!
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Thank you. I love your writing as well, I just went in and read “I am the one.” Congratulations on your publication.
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My pleasure. Thank you for taking the time to read and for your wonderful comment. It warms my heart.
Wishing you a wonderful rest of the day!
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Beautiful, Sarah. And congratulations to you 🙂
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Thanks a lot, Ryan!
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Brilliant! Although I couldn’t ever interest by youngsters in ironing, I actually really enjoyed learning how to iron properly. I was taught by my mother and by my father, so it never occurred to me that a man wouldn’t be able to iron his own shirts or press his own trousers.
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I actually love to iron. There’s something Zen about it. But not my daughter or, as you can see, my granddaughters. Alas…
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Ironing tea towels or linen is my Zen place, too.
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Haha, this really made me laugh!
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Thanks, Jeff. Unfortunately, that’s non-fiction. It really happened. So humiliating…
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