I have decided that my load of whites are the Legos of the laundry world: 40 bajillion little pieces of socks, dish towels, and underthings, and even when things are put in their proper place seem to leave more questions than answers. How can one man wear 10 undershirts in a week? How can one kid wear 13 socks in a week -- and get holes in 9?
I thank the Lord for each foot and body that wear those clothes, and for the over-the-top abundance of whites He has given us to wear and wash, and I even try to be thankful that each of the never-ending pieces that I fold gets me closer to the end of the load, but I hate them. I hate the whites and I hate touching them. I hate them. Now, I have some socks to sort and undies to put away.
2 comments:
We have LOTS of whites too. . .right now my clean ones are strewn across the livingroom floor where they are in various states of folded and unfoldedness. It's 3:00 on Saturday afternoon. I've been home since 4:30 yesterday and still haven't managed to touch a one.
My wonderful hubby always does the laundry, isn't that awesome? The only thing he won't fold? The whites. He'll pick out the t-shirts, but I do the socks.....
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