My Own Private Laundrodrat
My husband has a very subtle way of reminding me it’s time to do laundry.
“I think we’re finally going to have enough money to get a digital Rebel,” I’ll say as we’re chatting one day in the kitchen (that would be a camera, y’all, not a redneck robot).
“Yeah,” he’ll reply casually. “Now that we’ve got some extra freelance money, let’s do it.” Short pause. “Oh, hey!” he’ll pipe up, suddenly, laughing falsely like he’s on TV. “I’m wearing my underwear inside out.”
“I’m really excited about being able to e-mail pictures of…. um. You’re what?”
“Well, there are no clean clothes, so I have to wear my underwear inside out.” Insert Crest commercial smile combined with slightly wounded eyes here.
“So why don’t you get all your dirty underwear together and just do a load yourself?” I counter with my own Colgate version of the smile.
I’m met with a blank stare. The blank stare of manly manhood confronted with a domestic task.
“Okay.” I say, defeated. “Bring all the laundry down and I’ll do it tomorrow.”
I’ll be honest. I don’t enjoy doing laundry. Because the moment I triumphantly place the last pair of socks atop a six-foot-tall stack of freshly folded clothes, another pile appears from a hamper somewhere upstairs, soiled and smelly, calling my name.
“YOO HOO!” it calls, possibly like a drunken Boss Hogg (I’ve never given dirty laundry a voice before [not counting halftime gossip with the soccer moms], so bear with me).
“Get on over here, gal! I’ve got a grass stain the size of Dolly Parton’s right one!”
“That was really uncalled for,” I mutter, gathering up the pile.
“I’ll tell you what’s uncalled for, honey!” It sasses back (Yep. Nothing sasses worse than a pile of smelly clothes. If that pile could, like, talk). “What’s uncalled for is makin’ the king of the pride wear his underwear inside out!”
“Did he pay you to say that?” I say, skeptically. “I’ve been really busy this week.”
“You’ve been busy! I’ve been doing double duty on a man’s ass!”
“That’s a good point.”
Without further adieu, I heave the Hogg pile into the washer.
If the dirties are a cracker sheriff, then my washer and dryer would be a set of buxom spinster twins. At the ripe old age of nine, (and I’d say washer and dryers age like dogs, which makes them 63 in human years), the washer is starting to have a real problem getting wet. And the dryer isn’t half as hot as she used to be (okay, I just heard a collective groan ring out across cyberspace. Sorry).
But on the whole, for a pair who were known in their heyday as the cheapest dames ever to cross a Sears sales floor, they’ve aged pretty well.
Best of all, they occasionally tip me for good service. A dollar here, fifty cents there… Small change to some, but let me tell ya, it makes a difference, particularly when I don’t want to leave incriminating evidence of my embarrassing Baby Bottle Pop habit on the grocery receipt.
All together, we’re like the cast of characters in a Hunter Carson novel. Except that my coming of age has come and gone and I don’t think Carson was actually known for giving voice to inanimate objects. Okay, so maybe we’re more like the cast of characters in Sybil.
Suffice it to say that together, we get the job done. Today, my husband is indeed wearing a perfectly clean pair of underwear. Clean on both sides.
“So how do ya like them apples?” I said this morning as I shut the doors on a neat stack of clean clothes inside the laundry closet.
“Hey, thanks for doing the laundry,” he replied. “You know, speaking of clean, it’s funny- Have you seen how high that pile of trash has gotten in our bedroom? You can’t even see the trashcan! Ha. Ha. Ha.” He laughed uncertainly.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I echoed like a cheap laugh track.
I’m on it, Chief.
>I hate, hate, hate laundry. It’s neverending and the thing is I can’t trust dh to do any of it. Of course I think he intentionally ruined a load just to get out of ever doing it, lol.
>mmm… I think… I hate laundry… but not as much as ironing.
>I hate. But I do it. I fold it. Then I never put it away- my kids get dressed in the laundry room!
>3 sons & a husband, YEAH, I hate laundry!! Cute blog. Here from Michele’s.
>I just can never understand how we go through so many clothes in a week!The laundry is never ending. But,ummm..Irene? What’s ironing?lol
>Like a guy can’t do the laundry himself. I have one of those over here. I sympathize.
>I despise laundry too. It never ends. Thank goodness I can get my husband to help, but sometimes it is just better if I do it anyway. He always puts the weirdest stuff together in the washer.Love that Boss Hogg reference though. I guess you could call your hubs your little “Roscoe P. Coltrain” deputy. Oh, man, I just revealed somethting embarassing by knowing that name, didn’t I? (grin)
>So…are you talking to the laundry? I’m worried but I understand totally. I’m in the middle of my pile right now. And the trash is another story. One of these days I’m going to post a picture of my almost quarter of a mile driveway through the woods so you can all see how far I have to walk to get the mail, to get the kids to the bus and to haul the trash cans when my husband is out of town.How much would I pay for an Alice?? A hella-lot!
>I hated laundry for a long time too. This summer I got the Bosch front loading premium Nexxt washer and dryer. I am now having a love affair with them both. Laundry is still a chore but not like it was. Less water, less detergent, cleaner clothes AND the dryer is in sync with the washer and you don’t have to play catch up because a load washes faster than it dries. -You can slap me now.P.S. If you look in my catagories under ‘Recipes’ you will find just that -recipes! 😉
>I’ll be different and say that I actually don’t mind laundry at all. It’s when my husband starts asking me to clean the bathroom sink that I know it must be time!
>i’m actually going to be different here, because i like doing the laundry. i do laundry everyday, the computer room is right beside the laundry room, so it’s not a problem to throw in a couple of loads. i don’t mind folding it either, but i absolutely hate putting it away. i only put mine away, i taught all three kids how to do their own laundry when they turned 10 and my husband helps out a bit as well, as long as anyone brings it to the laundry room, i’ll do it for them, no complaints.
>All six of us share laundry duty, but NO ONE sorts socks. Consequently, they are left in the bottom of the laundry basket (clean) while load after load of (clean) laundry is dumped on them, folded and put away. Everyone is left to snag their socks out of the basket, usually one pair at a time, until I lose my mind and spend an afternoon matching up pairs and vow to never let them build up again. After which, of course,the cycle begins again.
>Lucinda, you are such a crack-up.And LOL at jak! and masked mom!We all are in the same hampers, it seems. I don’t mind the sorting, washing and folding. It’s the putting away that’s the pits. And it’s not just the clothes, it’s the endless towels, beach towels, kitchen towels, I-spilled-my-juice-and-had-to-clean-it-up towels, and all the bed linens, the nubby bath-mat thingies, all that stuff. It. Never. Ends. I must say, though, that my hubby is really good about folding the clothes and putting them away. Sometimes I’ll just keep piling the clean clothes on his side of the bed in our room. Then I’ll go busy myself with other chores for a while, return back to the room and find he’s folded and put everything away. (Really!, a man!) This works especially well on big game days when there’s a football or baseball game on he wants to watch. If he wants to stretch out on the bed, he’s gotta put away the piles first. Hehe… 😉
>Angie- It’s official. I’ve seen the house. I’ve heard about the washer/dryer. I’m moving in.To those of you with husbands who help, well, I’m jealous. My husband actually does take all the laundry upstairs for me which is a HUGE help. And he tries to do laundry himself sometimes. But it usually involves washing the dog’s bedding so that the next load is covered in dog hairs! Therefore, I practically keep the laundry closet under lock and key.And it’s true. Laundry is therapeutic. There’s little more satisfying housework-wise than a stack of clean laundry. I just hate that the dirty stuff comes back so soon…
>If we are counting in dog years, my washer and dryer are 140! Oh, no, I suppose I’d better brace myself to buy new ones soon. I don’t mind washing the clothes and putting them in the dryer – but I hate folding with a passion. I have a huge load staring at me right now, and I need to get out of this chair and start folding!
>I confess I love the first half of the laundry: the washing and the hanging out and gathering in. Can tolerate the dryer when necessary but am more of a visual feast kinda gal – I like to see the fruits of the labours flappin on the line, y’know?I am an abject failure on the folding and the putting away. But that’s where the Prof comes in. I decided some time ago that it was worth occasionally finding my knickers in my daughters’ drawers in order to avoid putting them away myself! Btw, Lucinda, I know it’s a tough gig but I wouldn’t be taking any more of that backchat from your hubby’s undies. Give in to them and next thing his socks will be looking for sympathy, and your baby’s bibs will expect separate soaking and your nightmare vision of domestic slave will be complete!
>Ooooooh laundry. Now that’s my nemesis. Today I actually put everyone’s laundry away. Can’t believe how good that feels.But of course it’s piling right up again. My husband keeps a huge stash of laundry in his closet and then brings it out just when I think I’m done. It really pisses me off.
>boy have I heard that laundry talk to me. I commented to Prince Charming agreeing with you and he gave me a not so charming raspberry. LOL.
>oh and michele sent me.
>I’ve trained my husband to do laundry..and I tell him it is making him self-sufficient in the event that anything ever happens to me. The ladies in my ‘hood get a real kick out of it because he even irons my daughters onesies.-jill
>Lucinda, your writing is brilliant. BRILLIANT I tell you. No other woman on the face of the earth could impersonate a washer-dryer pair with such humor or accuracy. You had me squealing with laughter. And what is it with men and laundry? My husband will do it, when he’s out of underware (that seems to be the only time any man is ever aware of laundry!) but he typically throws everything in together–reds, colors, delicates, sweaters–on warm (or hot). Yeah, it has been a very NOT PRETTY thing when my favorite pants are three inches too short! So mostly, I do the laundry, and detest every minute of it. Though if I had the perfect laundry room…I think I might like it more. Mine currently is in the scariest basement of all time.