What I Haven't Been Doing

    It's easy to write about what you have been doing.  It takes a special kind of person-- one with a distinct lack of pride-- to tell the whole Internet about her procrastination.

      My littlest sister lives in Manhattan and does not see my house on a regular basis.  Additionally, while she is not technically still a newlywed, she does not yet have children, and apparently has much to learn about how they can affect your life-- and turn even your basic living areas upside down.
      

    While she was home recently, she opened the door to my dining room and this is what she saw:

    She was aghast.  To her, this looked like an awful mess, as well as a clear dereliction of duty.  I'll admit, we don't do a lot of dining in this particular room.  It's hard to maneuver around the laundry baskets.  But despite her horror at our use of the dining room, I must point out that while this looks unorganized, it is actually it is a well thought out system of sorting clean laundry, as follows:

Seven Rectangular Baskets: (clockwise from top left blue basket)

1. Finn's Clean Clothes
2. Mom's Clean Clothes
3. Bill's Clean Clothes
4. Porter's Clean Clothes
5. Clean Bath Towels
6. Clean Sheets
7. Drew's Clean Clothes

Two Round Baskets:

1. Clean kitchen towels
2. Clean socks (entire family-- unsorted)

    I love to wash clothes, turning foul smelling fabrics back into fresh ones that won't harm the ozone.  And as you can see, I don't mind sorting them so much.  It's the folding and putting them away that seems so unattainable.  Frankly, it's not strictly necessary, either.  I remember learning in social studies that man's three basic needs are clothes, food and shelter, and I think this satisfies the first prong.  Cavemen didn't have it this good.

    The second aspect of the scene that made an impression on my sister was that while one instinctively thinks of females when picturing a species that changes clothes many times a day, males actually produce more laundry.  My theory is that women try on more outfits but ultimately commit to one, while males often wear one outfit** to school, change into a uniform for basketball practice, change into clean clothes for dinner, and then wear pajamas at night.  All of those clothes are then destined for the hamper and later the washer, although it may require a little yelling to get them off the floor and into the system.

** I know, guys don't wear outfits, they wear clothes.  Shut up already.

    Our family has dressers, and we don't live out of plastic baskets all the time.  When I hosted Thanksgiving, I banned everyone from excessive wardrobe changes twenty-four hours before the big event, and I washed and folded like a maniac until the guests arrived.  And for a brief moment, I got to enjoy this view in my laundry room:

 

By the time the dinner was over, the baskets that hold our dirty clothes:

contained three pair of gravy-stained khakis and button downs and numerous napkins and kitchen towels.  I ran two loads of laundry the next morning, so our sorting system was soon back in place.

    But the brief sight of all the baskets, stacked and empty, was just as fulfilling as the chocolate pecan pie.