I put my wife’s shirt on the hanger, say a quick prayer, and then watch it slide off onto the floor. You would think that after being an at-home-dad the last nine years that I would have figured this out. I have done enough laundry over that time to fully clean all the sails for an armada of 1642 Spanish galleons.
Nope, women’s shirts still confuse me.
No shirt made for any woman will ever stay on a hanger unless there is some sort of magic involved. Apparently, I’m a muggle. The necks are too large and they are made out of some sort of fabric that doesn’t exist in this realm.
The shirts even give you false hope. There are these little strappy things hidden in a lot of them so that they can be attached to a hanger. I refuse to do this because it’s obvious that the hanger industry has conspired with the magical shirt industry. Just so I’m clear, I have to actually pay attention to the hangers I’m buying? It’s a hanger. It hangs. I think not, Mr. Big Hanger Conglomerate.
Instead of learning to do the impossible, I have spent the last nine years coming up with ways to avoid hanging up any and all women’s shirts. Oh, and taking care of children. Mostly, the shirt thing though.
I present to you, all my comrades in laundry, (not in the Russian comrade way, go U.S.A.), my tips and tricks for avoiding hanging up women’s shirts:
1. Go get your trusty nail gun. I believe that I can safely assume that we at least have the very basic model? I should hope so, we are not savages, are we? Take the nail gun, the shirt, and the hanger to your wife’s closet. Place the shirt over the hanger and press both against the wall. Fire your nail gun up, watch your fingers, and pop 25 two penny nails through the shirt and hanger. Technically, the hanger is now hanging on the shirt. Close enough.
2. Stop doing laundry. Learn to be Elsa, let it go. Sing the song if you want to while you cower under the mounds and mounds of dirty women’s shirts. It’s ok, you will look appropriately crazy singing while you sled down a hill full of silky shirts and their bullshit straps.
3. “This shirt will hang up fine,” your wife will say. It’s a trap! Don’t buy it. Take a close look at that shirt she is hanging up.
Why, it’s not a woman’s shirt at all, no sir! It’s one of your collared shirts that she has appropriated. She will wear it to make you lose your mind because none of us can resist the look of our wife in one of our button downs, can we?
Don’t fall for it. That’s a man’s shirt and thus is very easily hung up. Call out your wife. Not publicly though, that’s a mistake. We all want to continue to stay married. Go back to your bedroom and your landfill of women’s shirts.
4. Fire. Man created fire! It’s our greatest invention.
Fire has brought us from caves to living in high-rise condos while we sip on tea brewed over a fire. Well, some people. I’m assuming that people who can afford high-rise condo’s in any American city can also afford a maid to do their laundry for them. Screw those people, right?
For us suburban Neanderthals though, we still got to deal with this unholy of holies. Fire’s original purpose was not to ward off the dangers of the dark. Hell, no. It was to burn Mrs. Grog’s stupid sundress fur that she picked up on vacation. Mr. Grog couldn’t handle it and since nail guns weren’t invented yet, he used fire to sacrifice all women’s shirt to whatever devil invented them. So let’s all pay attention to Grog, may his memory live on, and just burn the fracking shirts.
5. Go find a fitted sheet, preferably one with lots of stains on it. No reason for the stains, I’m just assuming that all of us could use new sheets. Now take that sheet to the University of Laundry located somewhere on the East Coast. Spend 50K and three years learning how to fold a fitted sheet. Come back to your house and show your wife how easy it is to fold a fitted sheet. Then try and hang up one of your wife’s shirts. You still won’t be able to do it, even with all your fancy learning. This gives you the basic argument that women’s shirts are not meant to be hung up at all.
Case closed. Throw the shirt in the linen closet and hang up the fitted sheet, which somehow stays on the hanger.
6. Ignore the problem, just like your budget issues. Eventually, all the shirts will magically be hung up on their own. Be careful though because when this happens, for some reason your wife may start to complain to you about something. The word “shirt” will get thrown around a lot. Play dumb. “Shorts? Sure, the shorts are in the drawer.” Continue to ignore the problem of the shirts until you get that weird twitch in your eye from unresolved shirt issues.
7. Start a religion, (not a cult because that’s creepy), and register it. Your main tenet will be “NO WOMEN’S SHIRTS ON HANGERS.” Make signs and then have your apostles go door to door handing out pamphlets.
Change the very culture that we find ourselves in. Hopefully, praise to the no-shirts, the world will come to realize that women’s shirts must never be put up on hangers. On December 25th, we can all give each other bottles of bourbon or wine, dealer’s choice, and talk about the old days of women’s shirts and hangers.
Previously Published on Hossman at Home