When I sit down with God in Heaven (because I’m going there damn it) we will probably assess how many hours I spent doing X amount of activities in my lifetime. Eventually he’ll come to the topic of laundry.
“Angela, 36% of your life was loading, folding and putting away laundry.”
“What? No! Seriously?” I’ll say in shock and dismay. I had spent 36% of my life doing laundry?!
I’ll just hang my head and cry in complete regret.
“There, there now,” God will say, attempting to comfort me. He uses his index finger and raises my tear soaked face. “Look on the bright side! You’ve prepared your whole life for your new role in Heaven.”
“What’s that G?”
“Why you’re the new laundry maiden of the apostle sector.”
“NOOOOOOO!” I scream.
I’ve only half jokingly announced in my home that I would be instituting naked day. A day where we all only wear a towel or something. If my calculations are correct, that would reduce laundry by 14%. I could get behind that.
How does my family have so much laundry? I’ll tell you how. We live in flippin’ Ohio where you must wear layers as it’s snowing in the morning then 68 degrees by 4 pm. Couple this with 2 kids having a combined total of 6 soccer practices and it’s a nightmare.
But at least my family does absolutely nothing to help me on laundry. The 13-year-old will occasionally bring down his hamper and throw it in the wash but that’s just because there are things in there he wants to quickly rewear again. I have stopped putting away everyone’s stuff. I just lay it on their dressers.
My favorite is when my youngest doesn’t put his clothes away for a like a week and accidentally drops an article of clothing on the floor. A day or so later I’ll demand he cleans his pig-sty of a room. Rather than pick up the piece of clothing from the floor and place it in a drawer, he’ll just throw it in his hamper, still clean. This is when I lose my shit.
“Listen, I don’t looovveee,” I put an emphasis on love, “to wash laundry. I don’t wake up every morning hoping my family has laundry to wash, cause I don’t! I hate doing laundry so if stuff falls on the ground, you need to pick it up. Comprende?”
This blog post has absolutely no plot or ending. It’s just me whining out loud. Do you guys go through this? Do you feel like you and your family could be away from your house for 3 months and someway, somehow, there would be laundry to be done?