Carpe Laundrum
Come With Me on a Magical Journey...
Sorta.
Laundry is a passion of mine. For those of you who just read that sentence and snorted (you know who you are), I forgive you. For those who just read that sentence and thought all measure of mean-spirited sentiments in my general direction about needing to get a life, perhaps?, I forgive you too. For those of you who read that sentence and felt your mind drift to a wonderful place where freshly tumbled, vanilla fabric softened clothes swirl around you in a ballet of cozy warmth, you get it. You know. It is so simple, really: dirty, smelly things go in ~~ wait 90 minutes ~~ and lovely, soft, snuggly things come out. It is the antedote to delayed gratification in my world.
We are the few. The proud. The LAUNDERERS.
Actually, you'd never know my love of doing laundry for how seldom the pile ever goes completely away in this house. That is a poor measurement of my enjoyment of this task, in fact, because as much as I do laundry ~ there is always more laundry being made dirty simultaneously. As soon as I empty the basket, it begins filling again. And our baskets tend to fill disporportionately by individual measure here at Casa Lachen. I am the LEAST messy and least laundry producing member of this household. By a LOT. My son, Dash, comes in a distant second, followed closely by his sister, Miss Sauce. Bringing up the rear in unapologetic fashion, is my beloved husband, Copper. Now, I don't mind doing the 712 thousand pounds of laundry that process through my machines annually, but there is one little laundry quirk Copper has which, after nearly 10 years of marrige, continues to baffle and amuse me.
I find this laundry habit of Coppers' fairly giggly: because he fills up the basket in our closet at least twice a week (my clothes are in there too, but I soil 1 thing for every 14 of his), I have to bring that basket to the laundry room twice a week, dump he dirty clothes out into the laundry room baskets, and then bring it back to our closet. Somtimes, our closet laundry basket it stays in the laundry room with me while I fold a load of laundry and then bring it back to our bedroom with me. Sometimes, it stays in there longer because I got distracted while folding said laundry by any number of dawning experiments involving my children, duct tape, toothpaste, and the neighbor's cat which I feel compelled to put the kibosh on immediately.
INEVITABLY, during this time when the laundry basket is temporarily removed from our closet, Copper will throw his dirty clothes onto the ground in our closet where the laundry basket usually sits. As though it is still there when it really is not.
Now, he knows the laundry basket IS NOT THERE.
But he knows it is SUPPOSED to be there.
That is, apparently, enough reason to toss dirty clothes onto that vacant space where the laundry basket is usually, but isn't right now.
He knows where it is, this missing laundry basket. He knows that wifey dragged it to the laundry room because it was full. Mostly of stuff HE put there. He also knows where the laundry room is. Really, he does. The laundry room is located exactly twenty-seven paces away from the closet in our bedroom. Twenty-seven little steps. I measured.
Yet his clothes get blithely tossed into a pile on the floor of our closet where the laundry basket is SUPPOSED to be.
Because that makes sense to my beloved man. My beloved, strange, sweet husband. Who grins like the cat that ate the canary every time I mention this little idiosyncracy of his. He knows. And because he reads my blog semi-regularly (but never comments - ahem!), he extra-specially-super-duper knows.
But just in case, I offered this special map for him tonight, hoping to illustrate how simple a journey this is: this business of walking from our closet (where the laundry basket is NOT) to the laundry room (where the laundry basket IS). I plan to put this little visual aid in the place where the laundry basket USUALLY sits in our closet, hoping for the Mapquest effect. We'll see. I am kind of thinking he may not even see it lying there on the carpet before he throws his dirty shirt on top of it. I love this man. He makes my whole life fun.
MAPQUEST for LACHEN'S LAUNDRY
Starting Location: Lachen's Bedroom Closet
Ending Location: Lachen's Laundry Room
Directions: Go due west for six paces. Cross bathroom floor. Turn right. Walk three paces to bedroom door. Go through bedroom door and turn left. Walk eighteen paces to the laundry room. Enter door and deposit laundry. In a BASKET of some sort.
Our closet laundry Basket: HERE.
Our closet laundry Basket: NOT HERE.
Step One ~ Walking out of our closet
Step Six ~ Walking across our bathroom floor. See how easy this is?
Step somewhere around 20 ~ in the hallway on my way to the laundry room. Does anyone else notice I seem to be walking exclusively on my right foot?
Et Voila! 27 steps from closet to laundry central: we made it!
CARPE LAUNDRUM:
"Seize the Laundry..."
...and put it in a basket.
posted by lachen at 12:06 AM
7 Comments:
Those are excellent instructions and the pictures really help. However, this simply represents too many steps (not the 27 steps, the thought process) for the masculine brain to apply to a dirty t-shirt.
I seem to have the same problem with Spirit. Only her hamper is always exactly where it's supposed to be. But somehow the clothes never make it into the hamper. I find them on her floor, on my floor, on the living room floor. But never the hamper.
Now I'm comparing copper to a 5 year old. I don't think a map would work for spirit either. But she would find it very funny. I'm sure copper will too, but I'm also sure he'll take great joy in throwing his dirty shirts on top of your nice map that you worked so hard on.
And I too take great joy in laundry. Not so much because I love the task so much, but mainly because I have lived without the ability to do laundry at my own will for so many years. Now that I have my very own laundry capabilities, I'm a laundry doing fool! I love having clean clothes and I love even more deciding when I get to have my clean clothes without having to wait for the opportunity to get to someone else's house to get them.
Lachen, you have made my night. I was laughing (With you!) through every step on your post, and I am going to make mention over at FDW for readers to come and also enjoy. Continue to have a great night.
Carpe Risus!
Amen, sister! My problem is similar. I have a wicker laundry basket with a removable lid on it in my closet. My husband piles his dirty clothes ON TOP of the removable lid of the laundry basket. He cannot grasp the concept of lifting the lid and putting the clothes INTO the laundry basket. Or perhaps like your husband, he does not SEE the lid.
Thanks, Lachen. That was funny!
le
Fellow laundry lover over here! It's by far my most favorite household task. I love it. I love separating the clothing into impossibly detailed piles, that really, are quite silly. I love hearing the swoosh of the washing machine, love the smell of the dryer sheets, and love the crispness of clean clothes. Ah!
I also love your step-by-step illustrations for Copper. I just may have to copy that for my own dear husband, who also has a hard time finding the hamper at times (okay, pretty much ALL the time).
First, your laundry room is the shizzle. Really.
Second, I don't do laundry. Not really. I clean toilets and bathrooms and floors. Hubby does laundry and dishes. However, I am very stubborn when it comes to the detergent. Must always be Tide (with Febreeze).
Third, this post made me giggle. Alot. :o)
You guys are cracking me up! I knew there were closet laundry-lovers out there and that this would be relatable.
As a postscript, Copper DID find the map this morning. He giggled. And then, can you believe it? dumped his PJ's, undies, and socks right on top of it.
*little stinker*
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