Laundry

When do you suppose "laundry" started? First instinct tells me that it must have happened as soon as bodily covering came into vogue, but I have a sneaking suspicion that humanity went around stinking for a few centuries before it occurred to someone that water came in three temperatures for SOMETHING.

It would have behooved that person to keep it to herself. Because now we Moms have inherited a task that ought to qualify as "hobby" for as much attention it garners. Notwithstanding that hobbies usually are FUN, or at the very least, exciting (with the possible exception of stamp collecting, which is neither.)

In the olden days, laundry was a chore done once a week. And you got to wear the same clothes for seven straight days, even if you spilled jelly or chicken entrails on them. I learned this from extensive research, consisting of reading the entire "Little House on the Prairie" series when I was 10.

Then some idiot went and invented the washing machine, so now we get to do laundry every day.

I know there are some people out there that don't mind doing laundry. And I'd be only too happy to give those individuals my home address, if I wasn't so worried about their mental stability. Me? I pine for the days when I used to cast my sweatshirt off to be rendered unsoiled by some other luckless human being, and returned neatly to the proper drawer.

My kids have no appreciation for my efforts, much the same way I never appreciated my Mother's. They leave a trail of laundry behind them like Hansel marking the way home. Doesn't matter how much I remind, cajole, threaten, or otherwise attempt to rig the game - their goal is to keep the basket full. And it IS a game, no two ways about it. That's why you should NEVER ask a kid to help you fold, no matter how tempting the payoff might seem, at the time. Because, ladies (and gents - laundry is equal-opportunity misery,) THEY are on the OTHER team! The "FULL" team. And to the best of my knowledge, they can't be converted by anything short of that inoculation they get when they go off to college (and YOU thought that was for tetanus!)

It's not that I detest the chore; it's just that it's never-ending. I can finish 6 loads, just to find that a seventh has mysteriously appeared in the basket. And I don't even have teenagers!

One thing I DO hate, with a red-hot passion, is that obnoxious air-horn my dryer uses to announce, "Ready for Folding, Wench!" Not exactly the Sirens' song. You'd think the dryer manufacturers could have come up with something better than THAT. What if instead of the seizure-inducing honk, the dryer calls out some nice complement or other. Like: "Have you lost weight?" or "I like what you've done with your hair!"

I'd go in there for THAT.

My weakest point in the laundry process is the "put away" step. My husband and I have perfected the ability to smoothly hurdle heaps of folded clothes, pretending not to notice. We have an unspoken agreement that "you notice, you stow." I'm sure we all know that it's the supply of the unmentionables that makes or breaks this modern game of "chicken."

You know what kills me? HOTELS have laundry facilities for guests! Have you noticed this? Isn't that a little like giving you the keys to the broom closet, and telling you to "Have at it" if you want a clean room? I'm sorry, but one of the biggest reasons I GO to hotels is to enjoy a few laundry-free days. Which is why we usually pack like Rose Dewitt Bukater when we travel.

For entirely selfish reasons, I'm banking on some high-tech smarty-pants inventing Teflon clothes in the next millenium. They'll be snazzy, versatile, and shower-ready. They might even reflect your surroundings for that stylish "blending" look that's never too dressy, never too casual!

Then all I'd have to pack for the family vacation would be a roll of quarters for the car wash.