The Goddess of Laundry

I am the laundry goddess. I have just started my second load of the four loads of laundry I will do today (I have also just taken three ibuprofen – related? Possibly).

It seems as though I just did laundry a few days ago. In fact, I did do laundry a few days ago. There are only seven days in a week, and four people living full time under this roof (though Stepson adds to the laundry demands every other weekend) – how do we wear so many clothes?!

I’m working from home now, which means theoretically, I could wear the same outfit seven days in a row without washing it (But don’t worry, I don’t do that!). Pumpkin doesn’t really spit up or get her outfit changed during the day that frequently (unless there is a dire need like a major weather change or that occasional spit up). Hubby wears the same basic thing to work daily (though I’ve noticed his trick is to pile things up in the bedroom and not really put them in the dirty clothes until the laundry is so full of other stuff. I realized yesterday – the culprit? It’s The Princess.

She changed her outfit THREE times yesterday. The first outfit was fine – it didn’t match. T-shirt and shorts – both had the color pink in it, so in her eyes, they were a match. I don’t believe in fighting with a kid over her wardrobe – generally because if my daughter doesn’t match, people won’t blame me. They’ll look at her and figure one of two things: a) daddy picked out her clothes or b) she picked out her own clothes. Since neither option implicates me, what do I care (now when her hair isn’t done on the other hand, I am so busted! As she told her preschool teacher the other day, “My mom forgot to do my hair today so I had to do it myself!”). My mom arrived to take The Princess on an errand and said, “You don’t match – you should change your outfit!” (Hubby later commented, “Where were they going? A fashion show?”). The pair came home from errands, and about an hour or so later, she was changing AGAIN.

No wonder I’m buried in laundry.

Stepson is no better. After spending two nights here, I typically have to wash four pairs of pants, three shirts, two pairs of pajamas, MAYBE one pair of socks (he either never changes them or hides them), and countless pair of underpants. Half of the things I end up washing, I’m not entirely sure he’s WORN duing that time, he just thinks it’s easier to toss it in the wash than to put it away.

I’ve started laundry load 2, and I have yet to fold the stuff that has been sitting in the dryer for four days. No wonder I have a headache.

About sarah

Sarah is a book nerd, a music lover, an endorphin junkie, a coffee addict. Oh, and a goof ball. She writes, she tweets, and she sings off key.

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