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Home Economics, Tuesday, period 1

Today there are tubs of water and baskets of dirty laundry on the students' tables. There's also a wide variety of detergents, soap, bleach and other useful cloth-washing things. There is also a handy pamphlet or two.

"Good morning, students. Today you are going to wash clothes by hand. It's an important skill to learn." Emma nodded. The fact that the mansion's washing machine had been wrecked in the flood obviously had nothing to do with today's lesson. Nothing at all. "Oh, and make sure you use rubber gloves."

She eyed them all for a moment. "If you empty your tub of water on the floor, you get detention. I've had enough of floods for a while."

ooc: Yes, it's Emma's laundry. Mod at will. If you search hard enough there might even be an item of colour here and there! ~~Wait for OCD~~ OCD is UP!

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"She was all interested in my pants," Pam said, still looking faintly disturbed. "The sub, I mean."

Jim looked down at Pam's pants. "I can see why. They're very nice pants."

"They were different pants. She was afraid some stain on the back of my leg was going to set or something." Pam rolled her eyes. "She was kind of weird. You're lucky you escaped."

"No, not luck. That was pure talent," Jim bragged.

Pam gave an exaggerated pout. "You could've sprung me, too. Maybe I have the plague."

"Sorry. Once I got her to the point where she was going to let me go, I had to get out fast or end up covered in Lysol or something," Jim said.

"Which would still be better than dealing with Ms. Frost's....whatevers," Pam decided.

"Actually, I think I may have to find our sub and have her spray me with Lysol when this class is done. This can't be hygenic," Jim mused.

"I may actually be coming down with plague," Pam declared.

"I don't think Miss Frost will let plaguey students out," Jim said. "So please, don't breathe on me."

Pam purposely leaned over and blew a breath on his arm.

"You're mean," Jim declared.

"And diseased, just like you."

"Actually, it turned out that my disease was just an itchy arm," Jim said. "Funny how that worked out."

Pam frowned. And then smiled. And then flung Emma's hat - she really hoped it was a hat - at his head.

"That's not a hat!" Jim said, ducking. He didn't want to know where it landed.

"You said it was!" Pam said, and she would have looked more alarmed if she hadn't been laughing.

"I was joking," Jim said, standing up straight again. "What's with you, throwing people's dirty laundry around?"

"I wanted to see if it really was a hat," she said innocently.

"You could have asked her," Jim suggested.

"No, she scares me," Pam said.

"How scary can she be when you've been through her underwear?" Jim asked.

"I'm not sure it's her underwear. Like you said, we both wear more on our feet than she does on her entire...self," Pam replied.

"Underwear, outerwear, it's all the same with her," Jim said.

"Isn't there a dress code?" Pam wondered.

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