This is my laundry
I think we have been living out of those laundry baskets for a week now. And yes some of those clothes on the floor are clean, they just don't fit in the overflowing laundry baskets, so they make their way to the floor. One of the baskets has given out with all the pressure, so sad. This is not all however. There are full laundry baskets in every room, and there is laundry in the washer and drier. I am literally dealing with Mount Kill-a-man-laundry over here. Now every once in a while I will actually tackle the laundry, it happens about once every few months or so. I will wash, dry, fold, and put away everything, if you can believe it. And I celebrate my victory by not doing laundry for a week so the insanity can start over again. I know it's a brilliant plan. I will get to the bottom of every laundry basket except for the one in the laundry room, that one holds things I swear I will get to one day, but they're not all that important for every day life so month after month they collect dust and lint, it's fabulous. See I figured the more laundry baskets I have the better at laundry I will become. But old habits die hard, and instead of getting to the bottom, I use them as storage, pretending that somehow my magical animal friends (you know the ones from Cinderella) will come to my rescue and do everything for me. Instead, I am left to deal with the craziness all on my own. That is until Kelcey steps in and decides if he wants clean clothes he's gonna have to do it himself.
See my whole thing is laundry wouldn't be so bad if it didn't have about a million steps. First, I have to lug the dirty clothes in overflowing baskets down three flights of stairs. Yeah, laundry room in the basement, not the best idea. That alone makes me doomed to fail. Anyway, Then I've got to practically dive into each basket and separate, darks ,and whites, and pinks, and towels, and sheets. Then I overload my washer because I have so many things to wash, and bigger loads mean I get done faster, right? Then I have to dry, and fold, and lug all folded clothes up three flights of stairs without dropping anything since it's teetering. Oh and then I have to hang, and shove clothes into too-small drawers. It's all insane. And it never ends. I won't even go into folding socks, especially kid socks.
So this is a SHOUT OUT TO ALL THOSE LAUNDRY HATERS out there. Can I get a WHOO WOO?