Mounds of laundry— and even little humps of them— in the hamper create an itch that needs to be scratched, umm, washed
I
do laundry every day.
There, I said it.
I don’t know if it counts as a point of pride or demerit, but either way, it’s the truth. I stare with wonder at the (wonder)women who organize their weekly schedule neatly, with ___day (fill in the blank with only one day of the week!) as their laundry day.
How does that work? Does it mean they wash, dry, fold, hang, and iron all the laundry for the entire week in 24 hours? Is that even possible? Do they not sleep? Or does it mean that they designate a certain number of hours in said day for laundry, and whatever doesn’t get done in that time waits for seven days later?
Do these people own a clothing boutique? Or maybe it merely means that they begin the washing cycle once a week and continue it for as long as necessary. If so, maybe I, too, can join their wundergroup, since I start laundry every Motzaei Shabbos and continue for as long as necessary (which, of course, is Friday approximately five minutes before candle lighting).
Mounds of laundry — and even little humps of them — in the hamper create an itch that needs to be scratched, umm, washed. It bothers, annoys, pesters, and begs for attention and doesn’t feel better with just one load or 20 minutes of ironing.
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