NEVER done...
I hate chores (Well...I should say that I dislike a mess, and I enjoy establishing order).
And I hate some chores more than others (no hidden message within this parenthesis).
My ultimate favorite chore to hate is laundry.
Laundry is NEVER done.
You wash a load, and then more clothes magically appear in the hamper (no, I am not pointing fingers...at my husband...or...yeah...).
You fold the laundry, and put it away, somehow managing to keep the hamper empty, and then, wait, no, you are WEARING more laundry at the end of the day.
(Just a note on folding: What's the point of folding children's clothes? Hmmm??? All they do is shuffle everything in their drawers, "looking" for something to wear, and end up tossing their clothes into a giant wardrobe salad.)
The other problem with laundry is that it immediately makes you aware of your homemaker sins.
For example...
As you sort through the giant pile of stuff, you realize that your son only has one (1) dirty underwear. That means your son only had one (1) bath in the two (2) weeks it took you to getting around to actually washing laundry, because you discovered that your seemingly endless pile of undies actually has a bottom.
In that very same pile you discover one pair of little girl undies, and one onsie, yet another indication that you have not washed your children.
The same pile has no rags to speak of, which means you didn't clean the bathroom, or any room with a flat, sprayable surface, for two weeks, and that would probably explain why your 18-month-old daughter keeps walking through the kitchen and stopping periodically to sit down and pick the unknowns off the bottom of her feet.
As you make your way down the pile of soiled-ness, you discover a toothbrush, a fork, an encyclopedia, and a layer of flattened bugs, that died from a) suffocation, b) being crushed by the sheer volume and weight of the laundry, or c) a combination of both, and immediately guilt rains down upon your sorry head as you realize you'll be paying through the nose for dentist visits, new cutlery, tutors, and eventually an exterminator.
Yeah.
Not my favorite chore.
Makes me wish that we all just wore brown paper bags and could just burn them at the end of the day.
Comments