Why I Don't Examine the Dirty Laundry...

It was laundry day today.

There were 4 loads. I left the white load for last.

I just dump the stuff in, add detergent and softener (and bleach for the whites), set the dials, and let it run.

And no, I never examine the pockets of clothing or stick my hands to examine what might be in the folds. If you are lucky, and I happen to feel a watch or a phone poking at me, I will check. But if it isn't making itself known, I am not putting my hand down in there.

I have had some nasty experiences in the past, so I just dump and run.

Now, someone had left a sealed plastic back of extremely filthy white socks by the washing machine.

When I opened the bag, I got a whiff and nearly gagged. The stuff was really, REALLY, rancid.

So I dumped it in, tossed a white towel on top and a sheet or two, and made the detergent extra strong, with extra bleach, and an extra long cycle of hot water. (If things come out not-so-clean afterwards, I will sometimes soak them in bleach for awhile and give them a quick run-through, which usually does the trick. But that is only for clothes that have already been cleaned!)

So when the White was was done, I opened the top loader and started taking clothes out and transferring them to the laundry basket so that I can carry them outside to hang to dry.

And then I saw it.

At the bottom of the washing machine was a centipede that was longer than my forefinger and nearly as thick. It looked like this:

It apparently had not survived the ordeal, although it was still intact. And while I pondered various sinister plots concerning the use of its corpse, I thought better of it and just dropped it into the trash.

And THAT, my dear friends, is exactly why I never put my hands into clothes to search for the unknown!