As you come to him, the living Stone--rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him--you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 2: 4-5

Thursday, June 21, 2012

The ABCs of Me

Laundry is the bane of my existence.  Of all the jobs that I do around the house, laundry is the one that I enjoy the least.  And given my penchant for housekeeping, that is saying something.  Give me a toilet to clean, a shower to scrub, trash to take out.   Just don't make me do laundry.
But that's the cruel part about it.  You have to do it.  If you don't, it multiplies and overtakes your bedroom, and your kitchen table, and the hallway leading to the laundry room.  Then your husband starts looking for underwear and asking you if you have seen it (duh...of course, I's on the floor!) and then eventually goes to Walmart and buys some more.  Then you end up looking for matching socks in the wee hours of the morning on a school day and you end up going to Walmart to buy some more.  All because you hate doing laundry.
And actually, it's not the actual washing I mind.  I don't mind picking up all of the dirty laundry scattered in bathrooms and living rooms and hallways and cars and stairwells.  I don't mind putting it all in the washing machine.  Or transferring it to the dryer.  Or even getting it out and putting it in the basket from the dryer.  It's the folding and putting away part.
 I wish I could say it's because I have five children.  But I can't because a. the big kids pretty much do their own laundry, and b.  it was like this when I only had three children.  In fact, the big kids ffondly remember sliding down the "mountain" of clothes at the end of my bed when we lived in the apartment.  And I have a picture of Josh as a baby playing in a huge pile of clothes, too, come to think of it.
I wish I could say it's genetic, but I can't.  Even when my mother worked outside the home, she would get up at 5:00 am and put a load of laundry in the washer, go to work, come home, transfer it to the dryer, make dinner, and then after dinner put it all away.  To this day, she does at least a load a day, and if it's not done drying by bedtime, she stays up. 
I wish I could say it's because I don't have an efficient laundry room.  Which, in my defense, I don't.  It's all cramped with no counters and there is barely room to turn around since we added the freezer.  What I really need is this:

and in the middle, one of these

Ah, who am I kidding?  This probably wouldn't make a difference either.  I wouldn't like to do laundry any more, but at least there would be a place to put it all, out of the way!

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