Well, life has repeated itself. Over three years ago I wrote Behold the Steadfast Steam Iron. There I shared the saga of my iron dying (rather dramatically) in the middle of the night. A trip to a 24 store in the wee hours brought me home with a new steam iron, bottom of the line. It cost $6.99.
The other night, well after 1:00 am, that amazing little workhorse gave up the ghost and shut itself off for good. Three years, seven dollars, a pretty good deal! Especially when you consider how hard a quilter uses an iron.
Off I went to the same store. As you might expect, most the shoppers at that hour are after munchies. Or they, like me, have a personally urgent mission. A lady had a bag of disposable diapers, a pair of teens had a can of Fix-A-Flat and a case of soda pop, a disgruntled-looking middle-aged man was sheepishly buying female sanitary items. “Bet you have teenaged daughters,” the clerk said to him. He nodded and practically ran from the store.
My new iron was going to set me back $10.99, as their lower-priced model was missing from the shelf. “That’s not something we sell every night,” the clerk said with a chuckle. “Let me guess, job interview in the morning?”
“Nope,” I said. The clerk looked at me as though she expected more information. I simply cradled my new toy and sauntered back to my car. Out in the parking lot, the teen boys were struggling with their flat tire. The father of teen girls had stopped to help them. Kind dad, or maybe just in need of some male bonding.
I didn’t take my new iron out of the box until the next day. Sure, I could have waited for morning to go shopping. But somehow I slept better, knowing it was waiting for me on my ironing board. It has a two-year warranty. Being more expensive, I hope it outlasts my last one by at least a year. Time will tell.
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