Friday, October 23, 2009

Yeah, it's time.

We allocate an entire closet to dirty clothes. There's half a refrigerator box in it for our hamper. I can't step back far enough to get a shot that allows good perspective, but the pile is about five feet high at the moment. Little Guy has to practically shoot hoops to get something on top.

When I was single I hated doing laundry. Now I don't mind; it falls in the same category as brushing teeth. There's a lot in life that needs to be done that isn't worth an investment of emotional energy.

What I don't like is socks. My solution is to buy two dozen identical pairs, so everyone with roughly the same size feet can wear them. That way I never have to sort anything. If one sock is transported by UFOs to another galaxy, I can match the orphan easily. When the color fades, it fades at the same rate. Unfortunately, at the moment we have a lot of black socks bought at different times, so we're dealing with various shades of gray. It's annoying. I don't mind gray -- I'm headed that direction myself -- but matching socks is not on my list of priorities in life.

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