Loads of Fun

When you are blessed to live in a household of six active, very dirty people as I am, at some point you find yourself to inevitably be surrounded by laundry.  I can't seem to escape it.  I am drowning in dirty towels, jeans, scrubs, sheets, blankets, socks, and panties.  And even when I finally manage to get caught up with the dirty stuff, I end up with a very large pile of clean stuff.  My family room couch is continually bearing the burden of loads of clean laundry, anxiously waiting to be folded and nestled away somewhere in a drawer.

 Yet it never seems to happen.  There they stay on the couch until they are plucked up and used again, ever subject to the dirty/clean cycle.

 

Don't even get me started on the socks.  They are the bane to my existence.

 

 

 I love how laundry detergent commercials depict doing laundry like it is a happy family event.  Oh how sweet, the little girl is happily helping her mother out in their pristinely white laundry room.

 

 

This is a little more accurate depiction.

 

 

And of course I never have a smile on my face after smelling my laundry, as it is generally done in order to determine if something has been cleaned or not.  It is never clean.  It always stinks.  Bad.

 



I must say that I am grateful that my laundry day does not look like this.  I am ever so grateful for modern appliances.

 



I cannot promise that my face doesn't ever look like this, however, especially after trying to unroll Ethan's crusted stinky socks.  Seriously?  You want me to touch that?!