Some moms have hypothesized a Law of the Universe stating that you can never get to the bottom of the laundry hamper. I would like to offer my experience today as evidence in support of this theory.
This morning, I took all of our dirty laundry to the laundromat. I was trying out a new strategy: instead of trying to wash and fold 2 loads every weekday, a goal which I have continually failed to meet, I would spend one epic day sorting, spot-treating, washing, drying, folding, hanging, and putting away ALL of our mountains of dirty laundry. We have a baby inclined to spitting up and a partially potty-trained toddler, so that is a LOT of laundry. To accomplish this Herculean task, I took our laundry to the laundromat where I could wash all of it simultaneously.
I filled up 5 washers with less than a week’s worth of our laundry, not including sheets (I didn't have time to strip the beds). I spent most of this afternoon folding and putting away the clean laundry.
I filled up 5 washers with less than a week’s worth of our laundry, not including sheets (I didn't have time to strip the beds). I spent most of this afternoon folding and putting away the clean laundry.
When I finally completed my task, I triumphantly surveyed the empty laundry hampers. I had done the impossible! I was a Titan among moms! (I'm on a roll here with the classical mythology references.) Then I remembered that in order to truly complete my task, I needed to unpack the clean clothes from our suitcases that we had used for our trip last weekend.
I opened my suitcase to discover that the cat had peed all over my and the kids’ clothes.
It’s really not the cat’s fault, you see. I tempted the Universe by trying to break one of its fundamental laws. The cat was just restoring the Cosmos to its proper state.
Being a stay-at-home mom is often a Sisyphean existence. But instead of rolling a boulder up a hill, I am eternally carrying a basket of clean laundry up the stairs, only to discover that there is a basket of dirty laundry waiting for me at the top.
Being a stay-at-home mom is often a Sisyphean existence. But instead of rolling a boulder up a hill, I am eternally carrying a basket of clean laundry up the stairs, only to discover that there is a basket of dirty laundry waiting for me at the top.
