An Angel: Welcome to the afterlife!
The late Mrs Melba Cunningham: Wow! It’s true after all! And I made it!
An Angel: You can’t enter with those creased clothes though, sweetheart. Here’s an iron and an ironing board.
The late Mrs Melba Cunningham: Iron my clothes? I’d rather go to Hell.
An Angel: Where do you think you are?
Weave a Web 
Only Lucifer’s capable of that kind of mental torture.
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LOL! They don’t iron in heaven because they don’t wear clothes (apparently).
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What do you expect? It’s new Eden after all. Here’s where I say something blasphemous like God is a pervert.
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!! I’m not sure I could trust myself in such an environment…
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Hahaha. Lol!
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Shining black humour. I feel kind of happy for the ironing board!
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I too have always wanted to be an ironing board (That sounds like a phrase straight out of one of Eugene Ionesco’s plays – which it’s not!))
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I love this!
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Thanks – and to be sure one should always do the ironing before one leaves the house.
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How DO you think of this stuff?!! I actually know two people who still iron…I’d rather not.
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I get my ideas while ironing.
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Ironing is very therapeutic. Sounds good to me. What’s next? The dishes?
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In Hell dishes don’t need drying (apparently).
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Sounds heavenly.
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Very clever!!
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😀 Perfect.
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Thank you Chelsea.
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Yes I can well believe that hell is one long ironing session…
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Apparently hell is too hot for “drip-dry” clothing.
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