If you didn't read yesterday's laundry post, here is the catch-up for your ADITW burger. Or scroll down. Loved all of the comments, because again, total Comment Whore. I wish I would have come up with Mount Washmore. Nice work, Jennifer. Many of the three or four followers here are writers - don't you just kick yourself when you write something and someone comes up with something brilliant that would've worked beautifully into your piece? Well, that happens to me EVERY DAY. And, Aleigh, WTF? doesn't the laundry automatically get sorted when you throw it on the box? I bet Hamburger Helper would taste a LOT better if I tried your "just open the box" strategy. And ForeverRhonda? My dishwasher broke too, and an Australian guy named Graham is installing my new one, after FIVE MONTHS OF MY KIDS HANDWASHING and breaking all of my wedding dishes, on Friday. I will blog about it Monday. With pictures of Graham, God willing.
So today I did a total of 10 loads of laundry.
Here is the status of my family's clothing:
You should see the other chair.
A few things happened today during my laundry adventure.
First, I took some of the commentator's advice, and I bribed the children with Sprite. Current Husband and I don't let them have soda, mainly because if they drank it there wouldn't be any for us. We prefer to pop an ice-cold Diet Coke, sit with our feet up, and say, "We don't let you drink this because it is so unhealthy (and refreshing). We are drinking this as an example of what not to do, because WE LOVE YOU." I told the kids that if they helped fold clothes for a half hour, and then worked in the garden for another half hour, they could have ONE Sprite each. And they bought it. Suckers. And they did it on credit, because I didn't even HAVE any Sprite. It sort of makes me wonder where CH and I have gone wrong. I would've negotiated for two Sprites and doubled down for chocolate.
Second, I was standing in front of the washing machine putting in yet another load of darks, when I realized my black tank and denim shirt should probably be washed as well. Of course, I took them off and threw them in the washing machine. I walked back up the basement steps in my black capris and black bra, intending to round the corner to my room and get a shirt on. The Son was in the kitchen, saw me walking up, and started screeching and making unintelligible noises, and then ran from the room covering his eyes. Oldest Daughter saw me, stopped, rolled her eyes, and said in her monotone teen voice, "Dude, put those things away" and then continued on to her room. I believe she referred to my bodacious ta-ta's as "those things". Genetics and nursing are a bitch, OD. See my chest, see your future. CH followed me into our room, pretended to talk about something, and then groped me as soon as he knew the kids were gone. Classy. I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter how old a guy is, whenever he sees a boob it's like the first time.
Third, I am TOTALLY allergic to laundry. I have proof:
Do you see that goiter? It's as bigger than a pea.
I realize my gargantuan nose
diminishes the hive, but it's there. Oh yes. It's there.
I do ten frigging loads of laundry, and suddenly, inexplicably, a huge hive appears on my face? Coincidence? I think not. And by the way? I spoke to a bunch of moms at dance class for about 15 minutes, and not one person said, "Hey, what's up with the boil on your face? Maybe you should get to a hospital." On the other hand, we get home from dance and OD looks at me and yells "Oh my gosh Mom, what is WRONG with your FACE?" and I think, "Well this is a new low in our relationship" and then she says, "No, I mean what is that huge THING on it!?" and I think "Hey, just because you got Grandma's nose doesn't mean you need to be cruel" and then she says "I think you have a bug bite or something" and I realize she can't mean my nose, because that is more like a garlic bulb.
We got in the house and I saw the appendage on my face, and I gathered the family for one of my "announcements". A QUICK NOTE ON ANNOUNCEMENTS: I am very passionate about "announcements", and I deliver them with great feeling and violent hand gestures, and in the moment I really mean them, but my family understands that I need to have my little rant and they can pretend to listen to me and I'll get over it within 24 hours. One thing CH HAS learned about "announcements" is that he is NEVER to blame them on my period, or I might punch him in the testicles.
Tonight's "announcement" went something like this:
They all just looked at me blankly and waited for me to cry, which is usually their sign that the "announcement" is over. I gave them a violent hand gesture, and they all quickly left the room."Okay people, I did TEN loads of laundry today, and it was because you don't take your laundry downstairs, and now I have a big boil on my face and it's because I had to do all of this laundry and it has stressed me out to the point that I am actually breaking out in hives. If you love me, you will start to do your part, and bring your dirty laundry downstairs weekly, and take your clean and folded laundry and put it upstairs, in your closets, and NOT IN THE LAUNDRY HAMPER, STILL FOLDED! Do we have an understanding?"
Q: How many loads of laundry did I do today?
A: Ten. But I'm not bitter and that's what's important.
I sat in the room alone, thinking about how to reduce our laundry load. I wear my clothes two or three times before washing them, and when you couple that with my every-other-day shower, that actually makes me like an Environmental Hero. What is more important kids, your khaki shorts, or the planet? That's what I thought. I don't wear makeup very often, only because I want to reduce animal testing, and I am eating a whole bucket of KFC pink fried chicken every day to cure cancer. When going through Jen Lancaster's garbage, I separate her metals and plastics (My Fair Lazy, buy it now!), and I am currently drinking an organic wine. It's all because I CARE, people. And I think the best way to teach the children is by example. And this is why I stopped doing laundry:
- For my health.
- For the planet.
- For the feminists.
- For the children.