Thursday, April 17, 2008
My friend and I have come to the conclusion that laundry is never done, it is just reduced. The hamper may have fewer items of clothes at any given time but is never empty for longer than 5 minutes, not to mention the 8 gajillion random, mateless dirty socks I pick up on any given day (and how on earth do they end up on the dining room table??). But I fondly remember the days that it was really done, just the Husband and I with empty baskets, folded and put away clothes, and no loads that have been in the washer for a day or 2 before I remember them and need to re-wash them because they stink. Sigh. Those days will come again someday, but really, the price for them will be awfully high. The trade off for never-finished laundry is sticky hugs and wet kisses, chubby fistfuls of dandelions and random weeds backed up by radiant smiles of joy at giving a fabulous gift, construction paper love notes and sleepy cold morning snuggles under the covers. All the sudden, I don't mind the never ending laundry so much, because I wouldn't trade the source of all that laundry for anything in the world.