Laundry

I am one of those weirdos who likes laundry.  I have figured out, that in order to have clean clothes and not get buried in dirty clothes, I must do about two loads a day.  I try to take Sundays off.  I wash full loads.  I separate out between colors, darks, whites and towels.

I wash them with our big mac daddy washer and then put them in the dryer.  I fold right out of the dryer and place the clothes on top of the washer to be put away by children, immediately.  (I hang a lot of our clothes on hangers because I am not a big fan of wrinkles.)   The kids help when needed or as a discipline for some type of offense.

I like laundry.  As my to-do list grows everyday and much of it does not get completed when I want.  I know I can always count on laundry to give me a sense of accomplishment.  I can see the huge piles of dirty clothes get clean and put away.  It isn't really all that hard to do.  Sometimes timing is an issue, like not letting the dryer run while we aren't at home but that is the extent of my problems with laundry.

OK, well that isn't entirely true, I do have a problem with washing, let's say the same pair of baseball pants twice in less then 10 days.  When my son doesn't even play baseball.  Obviously we have some tweaking to do over the summer about what constitutes dirty clothes and where clean clothes are actually suppose to go.

But, even with that little hiccup, I still like laundry . . .