Then I went to the basement. There was a load sitting in the washer, waiting to be dried from the morning before, when I thought I was going to get ahead on all this laundry business. A clean load in the dryer wrinkling and a clean load in a basket in front of the drier. What? this is too much? Oh there is more.
This morning, I notice I only have partially filled baskets upstairs waiting to be folded and put away. I get down to my basement. There are two full hampers unsorted, sorted dirty jeans, darks, darks, brights and whites. Honestly this makes me feel like I've got this. The dirty stuff isn't climbing up the laundry shoot. Then I see it. Oh yes. Four baskets of clean laundry sitting in baskets waiting for me to bring them up stairs.
There is something to be said for knowing when your beat. Do you realize there are people out there that get paid for this? I do it, not for money but because I love my kids and my husband. That's it. Seems like a lousy ending, but I can't think of any other way to end this.