78. Cloth-bound disaster

I did a stupid thing. An amazingly stupid thing, considering that I've been in charge of laundry for the past most-of-a-year.  You'd think I wouldn't do something like put clothes that are never supposed to go in the dryer in the dryer.

But if you thought that, turns out you'd be wrong.

It seems I'm just a big old ball of dumb,

amazing that I manage to respire.

The latest proof of how my brain's gone numb?

I put my wife's drip-dry clothes in the dryer.

For months I did the laundry while in France

and thought myself an able washing-guy.

Some things like dryers: tshrits, undies, pants;

but much of Megan's stuff should hang to dry.

I can't believe I did this wide awake!

Or that they didn't cart me off in hearses:

wroth Megan looked prepared for lives to take

when she unleashed her sailor's soup of curses.

The Fallout: clothes survived, no worse for heat,

and Megan loves me still, so that is sweet.