Last year, during the writing challenge, I was in the beginning stages of trying to rehab my entire house. Reconstruct it if you will. We had picked it up in foreclosure after it had caught fire under the previous owner’s care. To say the house was a disaster is putting it mildly. Put that is for a blog another day.
Today I am doing laundry. As we were reconstructing the house, one of the things I wanted was my laundry room by the bedrooms. It could not be in the basement. My house has many levels. In fact it is like a split level disguised as a 2-story. But I digress. I am doing laundry. My laundry room is outside my children’s bedrooms, just 6 steps down from mine. It is small, but perfect. Too perfect. I can no longer avoid finishing the laundry in one day. You know what I’m talking about– Do a few loads, and leave the rest for another day. The basics are clean and maybe everything else will be clean by Friday. If not, no worries, I can always finish it next weekend, because laundry never disappears.
But right now, all the laundry is piled in the hallway, just outside that door. The kids know that I will only do laundry found in their hamper, or that pile. Once the pile is there, everyone can see it until it disappears. Black clothes, purple clothes, clothes in multiple colors, socks, pants, shirts, towels, something teal (possibly Becca’s sweatshirt) all stick out of that pile. It all must disappear, by today. Or we will walk all over it all week and anyone who comes over to visit will see our dirty clothes scattered outside the laundry room door. Unless I can make the pile small enough to shove inside the door. Then I can quit doing the laundry until next week. That might be a better plan, do just enough laundry to make it through the week and then I can stop doing the job I don’t like to do anyway. Because it is just going to come back around next week and the pile will reappear outside that hallway door in a never ending cycle of loads of laundry.