Yesterday we spent time running around Paris, but that wasn’t the funniest part of our day.
because Emily and I packed lightly to avoid checking a bag, yesterday was laundry day.
Hand washing in our room.
Emily washed her unmentionables in the bathroom and then hung them on the rail spanning the wonderful window above the tub. Actually, she hung them on the side if the tub. When I went in to take my bath, I didn’t want her underwear near my head, so I am the one that hung them on the steel rail.
While we were out enjoying the midnight river cruise, the wind was playing hanky panky with Emily’s underwear.
He blew the yellow undies out the window and into the rain gutter, conveniently located outside our window. The problem was this-the rain gutter is six-stories high and about five-feet down from the window. It’s at an angle, so I felt I could have “stepped out” to retrieve them. I just wasn’t in the mood to fall six stories!
Today, while in the line for a visit to The Catacombs, Emily had an upset stomach. We returned to our room, sans any stolen bones from The Catacombs, to find the maid cleaning in our room.
We used the mop handle to retrieve the favorite-pair of underwear.
Which are now dirtier than before Emily washed them, and laundry day ain’t for a long time.
(I know ain’t isn’t a word, but it’s so appropriate here.)