Hands Off My Undies

I was doing my laundry this past weekend – not an uncommon thing. When I went down to the laundry room to switch over my washed clothes from the washer to the dryer, I had found some trailer park trash person had moved my whites for me.

I had three loads of laundry this weekend – two color loads and one whites. There was a kid sitting atop the machine with my whites in it. I told him I needed to get in there to move my clothes out.

He pointed to a dryer and said they were in there. I told him they were not – they were in the machine he was sitting on. I couldn’t believe anyone would touch someone else’s personal stuff, without their permission – especially their underwear and other unmentionables.

The kid – about 10 – tells me his mom moved it over. The dryer wasn’t on. The good lady – we’ll just call her trailer park mom for short – had taken the liberty of moving my unmentionables to a dryer, without turning it on.

Had the kid not been there, I wouldn’t know where my clothes had gone. As clothes do not routinely walk by themselves.

I told the kid as I went to move my clothes to the dryer which I had already put a load into, good thing his mom wasn’t there, or I’d kill her.

I probably would too. I’d easily kill some complete stranger for touching my personal stuff – they deserve death – or worse – if there is anything worse than death.

Had trailer park mom not been able to find a parking spot, would it be alright for her to break into someone’s car to push it out of the way?

Worse off than what trailer park mom did, was the lesson she was teaching her impressionable young kid – who she conscripted into taking the blame by waiting in the laundry room. Though I bet if I had taken much longer, the kid would be gone, and I’d be left wondering where my undies went.

There seem to be a more bad parents these days than good ones. Good parents teach their kids right from wrong – not how to wrong someone.

Trailer park mom wronged me, by moving my things without even asking me. She probably does this on a routine basis, and the poor kid ends up taking the brunt of everyone his mom wrong’s anger.

If I ever find out who that kids mom is, I think – no I KNOW – I’ll just have to fix her wagon. Trailer park or not – this ain’t Jerry Springer.

If I catch her moving someone’s clothes – I’ll give her more than a lesson in life. I’ll destroy all her clothes. Maybe take them out and toss them in the garbage. That would be a suitable solution.

She’d panic, looking for her clothes in all the machines – only they aren’t there. They are gone! Go out and buy some new clothes trailer park mom – Jerry’s calling.