Wash Day

I have a shocking confession to make in front of God and the internet. I HATE to do laundry. It has become the bane of my existence. Washing clothes has never been high on my list of favorite chores, but it seems that I like to do it less and less. I keep telling myself if I had a better workspace in which to do it, that I would be better about it, but I really think that is a mind game.

Part of my laundry problem, is that it just keeps increasing. I thought as my girls got older and they didn’t get as dirty, that my laundry volume would slow down. NOT! Who was I kidding? My sixteen year old thinks that just because she’s TRIED SOMETHING ON, that is now unfit to be worn, that it is SOILED, and UNFRESH, UNWEARABLE and must be RE-WASHED!

Little does she know that I often slip into her room and refold her dirty towels and put them back into her bathroom cabinet, or refold jeans and put them back into her drawer!

In her quest for clean clothes, she has become a bit of a Laundry Queen. She has started helping me with the laundry. She’ll gather up the dirty clothes upstairs, starts loads of clothes and will put them away. But, she discovered one of my dirty little secrets when she started doing laundry though:

Syd was quite appalled to discover that I was rewashing the same socks – again and again AND AGAIN. You know those Orphan Socks, we all have them. I have this theory, if you just leave them in the dirty clothes basket and keep washing them that eventually their mate will reappear. So, I just leave them there and hope for the best. She didn’t see the wisdom in my process; in fact she kind of called me crazy.

Oh well, it was good while it lasted.

But guess who’s in charge of the Sock Orphanage now?