The truth is I decided now was a good time to blog because I have mountains of laundry screaming for my attention. Well, I despise doing laundry. I mean I do not enjoy one moment of sorting, folding, and putting clothes away. And I need a mental health day just to mate socks. I am pretty sure that the clothes in my house get up and “Second Line” their way into my laundry room.
And as if we don’t accumulate enough dirty laundry of our own, my son throws EVERYTHING in the laundry room. Put on a shirt to see if it matches his pants… throws it in the laundry. Sees neatly folded clothes in a pile waiting to be put away… throws it in the laundry (insert expletives here). Then there is the four-year-old, no worries. She isn’t putting ANYTHING in the laundry because, of course, she is a princess and well apparently she has a staff. I am so close to moving to a nudist colony and screaming “Off with their heads” to anyone that even says the “L WORD” to me.
Then there is my husband who not only changes multiple times a day as though he is moonlighting as “Black Panther,” he also wears multiple pairs of socks at one time. Has he not read my blog, “Where the Hell are the Socks?” Because the last thing I need is more socks playing hide and go seek in the laundry room.
Seriously, if there is anyone out there with a love for laundry, I will barter with you. I will FEED YOU!! I will gladly prepare a table for you in the presence of my enemy, Old Man Laundry. Because laundry has to be a man, right. Or a gremlin.