Burn, Baby Burn

"Help!", she called from the laundry room.

I rushed down the stairs as she called out, "Do you smell smoke?"

I did not, thankfully, and began to wonder what laundry mishap she found herself in this time.

She had once again chosen to ignore the care instructions emblazonened on an item. This time it was the cover for one of the kid's car seats. As I pulled it from the dryer, I noticed that one end was lightly singed, the opposite fairly damp. Underneath the burnt end, the plastic cushioning had begun to melt and congeal. Ironically, the giant care label was still hot to the touch.

I asked her why it was in the dryer when the instructions clearly say that it should drip dry.

"Oh, I don't have time for that."

Fortunately, I was still able to wrestle the cover back on the seat.