Thursday, August 27, 2009

I Fold

So, it's come to this. A laundry post.

I don't know what to tell you, other than that on this rainy August day, my love for laundry was never more pure. So deep was my love that I felt compelled to share it.

This is the way I fold laundry, several times a week, week after week after week.

I sit right here on the floor and I lose myself in the warm, smell-goody artifacts of the people I love the most.

And for doing their laundry, my family pays me not in cash, but in cool stuff like this. I found it today, I do not know what it is, nor from whence it came, but it's rusty metal, and I'll take it.

The arm of the chair is designated for those items that will go straight to the closet.

The kids' stuff gets stacked in Ruby's laundry basket.

Our stuff gets piled onto the floor, where it just may remain for the next day or two.

I have very stringent folding standards that I impose upon myself. I like methodical. I like orderly. This is one small corner of my universe that I have control over, barring the odd, stubborn stain or the runaway sock.

I typically like to stack the items by size, but today I hid the unmentionables somewhere in the middle. A little prudishness never hurt anyone. And if I were Cory, I would not necessarily want people knowing that I wear polar bear underbritches.

While I fold, I do some thinking. (My best thinking comes during laundry folding, weed pulling and eyebrow plucking, fyi.)

Today I reminisced about the time that Ted Kennedy nearly knocked me over in the Russell Senate building. Now you think I'm name dropping, don'tcha? You think I'm gloating over the fact that I'm practically part-Camelot. In truth, of all of the political figures roaming the hallowed DC halls, Ted Kennedy would not have been my first choice. Still, he was a political celebrity and since I've never met (or been run over by) any real celebrities, I'll take what I can get.

I was folding today on my lunch break, so in between basketball jerseys and dress socks, I ate my left-over sauerkraut, sausage and mashed potatoes - one of those magical meals that tastes even better re-heated.

I tried not to think about these:

They are the bratty exception to my laundry love. They are boring, boring, boring. And mostly, they are inside out. I have made peace with turning t-shirts right-side-in, but I draw the line at socks.
You break 'em, you buy 'em.
*(Please modify the previous line for compatibility with laundry. I don't have it in me right now to work that one out.)

I also realized today that this is the only vantage point in the house which could have drawn my attention to this:

For reasons unclear even to me, I was drawn to Charlie, mischievously dipping his paw into an unsuspecting Lucy's bath.

I am not entirely convinced that toys do not come to life when the humans retire for the night. I've caught too many of these suspiciously "staged" vignettes to rule it out.

Since it's Friday and all, take a look here and here. If you have any luck at all, other people will be hooked on something a little more exciting than laundry.