When we were kids, my mother’s surveillance was constant. My parents never went out. We never had babysitters.
Once — literally, just once — my mother needed to make a brief excursion and had no choice but to trust my father to watch us.
We snuck into the laundry room. We knew we were not supposed to go in there. But we were not supposed to do anything. Except sit quietly looking at books that we did not yet know how to read. But we were kids. With a natural curiosity.
Anyway, we thought it would be a good idea to see if one of us could fit in the dryer. I was not the largest. I was not the smallest. It is likely I was the boldest. For the sure I was the dumbest.
So, with great excitement, I climbed into the dryer.
It was a front-load tumbler with a large circular window.
My brother closed the door…
I felt like I was Judy Jetson riding in the space capsule!
These were the days of the Apollo moon landings. Rocket ships were everywhere. Including my dream of the previous night.
Actually it had been a whole rocket factory in my dream. With “about a hundred” rockets.
My brother turned on the dryer…
It was warm and blue and the rotating drum kept lifting me up one side, but then I just kept sliding back down to the bottom. Over and over and over. I didn’t spin around the full 360° of the circle like the way the clothes make a complete orbit. Something maybe to do with gravity?
People tell me this story helps them understand me better. I have no idea what they mean.
© 2017 Jaclyn Schrier. All rights reserved.