“Wa”La Vida Lavada

I miss having help around the house. Instant pancit canton in a matter of minutes, a liter of ice-cold tea in the fridge, every nook and cranny spotless…and so on and so forth. You see, ever since we moved here in the suburbs, we decided to let go of house help. Ironic, isn’t it? Our place may not be those of New Manila or Forbes Park, but people here are a little above middle-class. Iya & Mum decided that we won’t need the services of maids since it’s just the three of us and we can manage. They believe we are domesticated enough to refuse help. Fine, the maid won’t have any place to sleep here anyways. Getting to the point, since we don’t have employees to do household duties, we “outsource” our chores--meaning: we have our clothes laundered in this quaint laundry shop just outside of our village. I have no qualms about it since they’re service was quite impressive…until earlier this week.

Oh, my dear shirt, don’t you ever do that to me again!

Our arrangements were simple: they pick up our laundry or I deliver it to their shop, they wash the clothes, and they deliver it to us, hassle-free, right? So it was really surprising to find 24 articles of clothing in our batch that does not belong to us. Okay, will just return it. No harm done. But then I found out, some of our belongings were lost. They’re explanation: they have this new labandera who mixed up everything. Idiot! Sorry, but for the longest time we trusted you guys and then you messed up. I wouldn’t be this irritated if they did not lose my favorite shirt. You know, my Simon Cowell navy blue shirt. You might have seen me wearing it now and then, probably often because I really dig that top. It’s comfy, it fits fine, and it makes me look good that I already do. LOL. They also misplaced my shirt with a necktie print on it and my Capt. America (that’s what our other TM calls me when I wear it) t-shirt. Along with the shirts are four Mum’s pants, several bedsheets and towels of Iya, and other stuff that weren’t accounted for. Idiot!

But fuming mad as I was, it all turned out fine. Over dinner, the owner’s daughter personally came to our house and delivered the missing pieces and a month’s worth of apologies. She said that she personally went through all the laundry to find those items that we listed as missing. Now that’s what I call service. Whew. Still, like every overly dramatic relationship humps, it may take a while before we trust each other again. Haha. They broke our hearts and it takes time for the trust to surface once again. Maybe it’s best that we take our laundry someplace for the meantime. Who knows, one day, we might be able to forgive what they did to us and let them wash our dirty garments once more.