The laundry fairy.

I do approximately 100 loads of laundry in a month. Yes, really. It’s crazy, but I have issues that prevent me from letting anyone else touch my washer and dryer. Yes, I know that is also crazy. I own my lunacy.

My daily routine involves wash, dry, sort and deliver. The only thing that is expected of anyone else in the house is that you actually get the dirty clothes to the hamper in the laundry room, and put the clean clothes away. By away, I mean “technically” where they belong. In other words, not the floor, the bed, in a bag in the closet, draped across a chair, etcetera. The demands here are just outrageous, right?

Yesterday evening I decided to wash the liner of the hamper. I do that approximately once a week, unless I feel like it needs it more often. This morning, I make my regularly scheduled trip to the laundry room and find a pile of clothes tossed into the FRAME of the hamper. The liner, still being in the dryer from yesterday, makes tossing dirty clothes into an imaginary bag apparently unavoidable, right? Except that there are so many people here that we have two hampers. Said hampers are roughly a yard apart from each other. That second hamper, enormous, and also overlooked today. 

I’d tell you that the person/persons guilty of this offense are all legally children, but I’d be lying. I can tell you that one for certain, (also the one leaving sharpies, wrenches, and screwdrivers in his pockets), is *chronologically* a grown man, and it’s not Mr. Gatsby. It really took a lot out of me to pick up the clothes and walk over to the other hamper. I’m not sure how I even managed. Again, with the unreasonable demands. 

Load of laundry in progress, I head to the fridge to pour myself some lemonade. Primarily because I seem to be addicted to things that give me heartburn. Prep my glass with ice, open the fridge, and some monster has left literally three tablespoons of lemonade behind in the pitcher. The good news is, I can totally make more. Then when I go to have someone with dinner, I can expect another three tablespoons left behind. I make about as many gallons of lemonade as I do loads of laundry.