"Tch, that boy always trying to help. Looks like he's doing whites, I bet he forgot the bleach. I'll just add a cup full," said Vinnie's grandmother helpfully.
Ryan's nice jacuzzi suddenly started to sting, as the chlorine beach filled the wash tub. A few minutes later, Ryan mentally screamed as the machine entering the spin cycle plastered him against the wall of washing machine. The little holes sucked the water right out of him.
Hands. Then more spinning, but gentler warmer. Ryan dozed off as the dryer gently tumbled him for an hour.
Whistling woke him. Withered hands spread him out a cool grey surface. It was an old woman holding a can of spray starch. Ryan winced as the woman sprayed him with the cool sticky aerosol. Ryan was terrified by what he feared would follow. He thought, who starches and irons a jockstrap?
The answer materialized before him. Vinnie's grandmother starches and irons a jockstrap, along with all the other clothing. The hot iron burned as his rubbed across his cottony body. She neatly folded him, and added him to the top of the folded laundry in the wash basket and headed for Vinnie's room.
Vinnie's little brother Lou intercepted her in the hallway. "Hey, grams, did you wash my jockstrap? I've got a Little League game in a half hour."
"Oh, Lou, I just put it in the wash. Here you can wear Vinnie's, it's clean," grams said handing Ryan to Lou. Ryan screamed no! But no one heard him.
Lou winced. He wasn't thrilled about wearing Vinnie's jockstrap, but he knew that it would take an hour for his wet jock to dry, and the coach wouldn't let him play with out a strap. So Lou thanked his grandmother and rushed to change for the game. It would take at least 10 minutes to get to the park.
Meanwhile Vinnie checked on the wash. It was taking longer than he expected. Oh, well, more TV time, he thought, as the washer began its spin cycle.