Laundry Master of the Universe

Laundry is one of my most fulfilling hobbies. Note, I said hobby. Not task, chore, or errand - but a certified hobby. As one would partake in, say, scrapbooking, I dig laundry. My laundry room cupboard is stocked with enough supplies to rival the local grocery store. Oxi Clean? Got it. Fizzing drop-in ball? Got TWO of those. Pre-treaters, powder bleach, bleach alternative, and fabric softeners from all over the world grace my shelves. Did you know that Shout not only makes a stain removal gel, but also a stick, spray, wipes, and laundry additive in both powder and ball form? Yeah, didn't think so.

I would get an A+ in Laundry 101. In fact, I think that somewhere along this familiarly enjoyable, if mildly OCD path toward my current laundry mastery, I have earned the right to teach this class at most accredited institutions of higher learning.

Laundry gives me an immediate sense of huge gratification. I invest 2 hours (and about 9 specialized cleaning products) of my life and there is something tangible and squeaky clean, not to mention toasty warm and smelling like Rain (which is actually a misnomer - smells more like Irish Spring soap - which claims to also smell like rain - there is a conspiracy here somewhere. Oops - tangent alert. Let's regroup, shall we?...) emerges from my dryer. Ah, laundry. Suddenly, I am accomplished. The bills are still here, the rain has caused my under-construction-rock-waterfall to overflow it's banks and flood my patio, and my clients are calling off the hook, but GOSH DARN IT, my off-white-to-light-beige cotton and cotton blend load of dirty clothes are now finished. Clean. Beautifully flawless.

I ROCK. I am on top of life.

Because I am the Laundry Master of the Universe.

Everyone has to be something. Just hush.

However, there ARE still elements of laundry that continue to escape me with their unnecessary complexity. Please note that these items do not fall into the categories of laundry "Art" or "Technique", but are more in the "personal peripheral practices" surrounding the actual process of doing the laundry. And each of them involves my dear husband and myself as part of our ongoing laundry dance. We love it, this waltz, as it is a source of continual lighthearted banter for us. And Copper is my complete hero, the best friend I have, and the only man who can make me laugh from my heart and my stomach simultaneously. So when I say with complete confidence that he is also one of the strangest ducks when it comes to laundry, it is from a place of loving amusement. Sometimes I just stand around observing this little laundry dance and giggle.

For instance, are you aware the the laundry hamper omits an aura, permanently marking its location, kind of like a homing beacon? Yes, it was news to me too! This means that even when it is moved from its usual spot, the aura of the hamper remains intact, making it is perfectly acceptable to throw dirty clothes onto the floor where the laundry hamper used to be. Thus occurs the surprisingly common condition, "Habitual Laundry Hamper Disorder" (HLHD) which seems to almost exclusively afflict men. This disorder allows the mind to apparently decide that, even in the absence of an actual laundry hamper, dirty clothes belong in the space usually occupied by the laundry hamper. Thus, throwing them onto the floor where said hamper used to be becomes quasi-natural behavior. Although the origins of this fascinating condition are uncertain, it is most widely believed that this happens because the AURA of said hamper effects the mind of the HLHD sufferer like a beacon no non-HLHD sufferer is aware of (akin to dogs being able to hear sounds undetectable to us humans), thus rendering the actual hamper irrelevant to the process of collecting dirty laundry.

Sadly, our home is not immune from this affliction. Copper has an acute case of HLHD. We have tried everything. Post-It Notes. A big picture of dirty clothes in a circle with a big red line through them (a la Ghostbusters) placed onto the floor where the hamper would be. Yellow police tape around the general hamper area. All failures. When I remove our hamper from the place in our bedroom closet where it normally lives to, say, the laundry room for a day or two while I complete the laundry, it triggers an involuntary response I just can't control. And the dirty clothes pile begins accumulating on the floor where the laundry hamper used to be. It is so sad. I should call Dr. Phil, or maybe even Oprah. Especially since I heard it might be genetic.

I have often wondered what would happen if I got rid of the hamper altogether? But I already know - alas - the ominous floor PILE would appear suddenly again and get more complex and larger with time. It is kind of like crop circles - appearing overnight, mysterious, and more than a little bit unsettling.

I do believe, though, that I would also encounter a lovely side effect from this approach. I expect that in absence of the hamper, the aura on the floor would fade and I would begin to find laundry just strewn about everywhere. This would cause my little cleanliness-obsessed body to have an aneurysm or two, so "cold turkey" is definitely not the way to treat HLHD in our house.

Baby steps. Has to be baby steps. :)

Another notable ride in 6 Flags Laundry Adventures at our house has to do with the system of folding and putting away the freshly cleaned laundry. My process is the following:

1.) Remove clothing from dryer and place onto folding surface.
2.) Fold one item at a time, place into piles according to owner and room to which item belongs.
3.) Carry piles to appropriate rooms.
4.) Put piled items away or deposit into rooms hoping that the owner of the freshly laundered clothes will eventually put them away (see also: 'denial', 'kidding oneself')

Copper believes that mine is an incomplete, flawed process. He subscribes to the concept of sub-categorization of laundry and believes that while folding clothes, the clothes should not only be separated into piles according to owner/room, they should also be put with like items within said piles. For instance - socks should be with socks, boxers with boxers. It drives him bananas that I will put a pair of socks on top of a sweater which is on top of jeans, on top of a T-shirt. This causes sincere upset in my dear husband, and means that the clothes piles have to be re-separated before putting them away so as to avoid wasting energy walking around the room putting clothing away which is not in the same location as the next item in the pile. This task of re-sorting before putting away, in fact, so daunts Copper, that it has often been used as a justifiable reason for not putting away the towering pile of his freshly laundered clothes I've delivered to his bureau AT ALL.

So far, the longest documented time a non-subcategorized pile of clothes has remained untouched on Copper's dresser was 63 days from December 2, 2004 until February 2, 2005. I have yet to call Guiness. Somehow I think we are ahead of our time with this World Record category.

As long as I am the sole laundress of this home (a position I covet - not begrudge) I get to do things MY WAY. So my clean piles will remain scandalously un-subcategorized and I will continue to find dirty clothes on the floor where the hamper goes, whether or not it is actually there to receive them. I will continue to invest sizeable time and effort in creating the cleanest, best smelling, softest, freshest laundry for my family. And I will REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT. Because laundry is my hobby, it is a source of pride and accomplishment, and it is a greatly underrated American pastime. I love my laundry. Hi, my name is Lachen and I am a laundry-a-holic. Yes, I can see where that might fit in to my vocabulary somewhere down the road...

But I smile widely, and sigh contendedly. My laundry is clean and all is right in this corner of the world. Such is a day in the joyful life of the Laundry Master of the Universe.