I Play With Danger (or hot irons)

Yesterday was a marathon ironing day. I am amazed by the ability of Sean's shirts to multiple themselves. Seriously, it's nothing short of miraculous. But, here's how I was ironing: I'm sitting on the couch with the little ironing board folded out and sitting on the small square coffee table.

Since the ironing board took up most of the table, there wasn't really a place to set the iron down so I would just set it on the board itself whose surface is not too different from, say, a sponge? pillow? Yeah, a pillow. It's soft and totally unstable. This was so incredibly stupid yet I took the risk because hey, that's who I am. The table was low, as is the couch, so my knees were kind of straddling the table so as to bring it as close to me as possible and iron properly. If I so much as nudged the table, that iron was going to come a-tumbling down and I would meet my demise. I knew it to be inevitable, so what I did was I kept my feet planted, and an eagle eye on that iron at all times. I have always taken pride in my catlike speed and reflexes--seriously-- I have freakishly fast reflexes. You don't know how many dropped things i've either caught or softened the fall of, with the top of my foot. This includes wet gloppy food. mmm. I do it without thinking. So this could have been an irresponsible test, of sorts, to see just how fast I could be.

The whole ironing escapade was successful but for one incident: That one fateful moment when the iron tumbled down, aimed right for my knees. I saw it was happening and prepared myself. I felt the tip of the iron touch my knee but I was quick and grabbed the handle. I can't tell you how fast my heart went into cardiac arrest and back out again. It's amazing a heart can recover from something like that so quickly. Good ol' heart.

Since my knee was touched, i was afraid it was burned. But no, i was fine. I think the iron literally had not time enough to cause any damage, i was that fast. Or, all the adrenalin in my body somehow joined forces and centralized to that one location, somehow creating a protective shield against the heat. I'm pretty sure it would have deflected a bullet, unscathed.

And that, friends, was my ironing adventure.