Why My Husband Has No Underwear

There are three loads of laundry on my couch, one in the dryer, one in the washer and two waiting on the garage floor. It's no secret I hate laundry. Not because it's difficult, but because it takes so much time. Few are the chores that require three separate actions to complete, thirty to forty-five minutes apart. Multiply that by five loads and... well, you end up blogging instead of folding laundry.

I usually can get our laundry done, even though the socks and underwear do their best to thwart me. However, a house full of guests followed immediately by almost a week away adds up to a lot of laundry. I probably could have completed the task in one day if I'd set my mind (and timer) to it. However, I did neither. And so begins the story of how five loads of laundry have managed to stay on my to-do list for the better part of a week:

Late Wednesday afternoon: After traveling home, I managed to sort most of our clothing and put a load in the washer. So far, so good.

The washer buzzed, and I was busy trying to make a menu plan for the week since all we had in the refrigerator was condiments and CoffeeMate. We didn't want to come home to spoiled food... so we came home to NO food. I finally realized the washer buzzed and switched the loads, put a load of shirts into the washer. Not great, but still on track.

We had pizza for dinner. One two year old + pizza sauce = bath. Of course the dryer has to buzz when we're in the middle of bathtime. Finish up with baths, get the kids into bed, and.... crash. No way I'm doing more laundry after a day of travel, unpacking, meal planning and general parenting. I planted my hind end on the couch and watched a movie with hubby instead of folding and switching laundry.

Thursday morning: Had to get to a grocery store before my son realized that we were using CoffeeMate instead of formula in his rice cereal. (Kidding!) All four of us drove the twenty minutes to shop. Is it just me, or does the amount of time it takes to get groceries increase proportionately to the amount of people that go with you? Laundry was completely ignored.

Thursday afternoon: Kids finally asleep for naps. I actually remembered that laundry was a part of our lives, and managed to take clothes out of the dryer, put shirts into the dryer, and start another load. Score. Forty-five minutes later I was actually taking shirts out of the dryer to hang them up! Wow! For those of you keeping score, that's two loads done, but lots more to go.

Thursday night: I realized sometime just before bed that there were still towels in the washer and whites in the dryer. Oh well, they'll keep until tomorrow. Oops. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and we have at least two events to attend...

Friday night: After a family function, wedding, and "date" with hubby, absolutely no laundry has been done.  I begin to worry that the clothes will sour and I'll have to re-wash them again. This happens more than I care to admit. Should laundry make my list of New Years' Resolutions? I end up in bed by 10pm, confident the New Year will find its way here without my help and the laundry will still be waiting for me when I wake up.

Saturday: I have got to get some laundry finished! Finally switch out the loads again, but leave the clean clothes in a basket in front of the dryer. We're taking down the Christmas decorations and the house is chaos. It's a wonder Gracie only broke one ornament, and Mark hasn't yet found any tinsel to choke on. The laundry buzzes as I stand on the ladder to reach our angel tree topper.

Two meals, one Christmas tree, and the assembly of one new desk later, I am staring at dinner time... and wondering if anyone thought to change out the clothes in the washer. After dinner we go for a walk and come home to find the kids have no fleece sleepers left. Mark sleeps in a red onesie under his blue cotton pajamas. We add bright yellow striped pants over the pajamas to keep him warm. At least the white socks matched.

Must. Finish. Laundry. I switch out the loads and bring two baskets of clean clothes inside. I didn't start the kids' clothes because the hampers are in their rooms and I didn't get them before they fell asleep. I could probably get them without waking the kids up, but why chance it?

Did I mention I hate laundry?

Sunday morning: Church was fantastic. Luckily there was nothing about what happens when you neglect your primary household chores, so I left without feeling too convicted. I couldn't let Mark sleep in fashion chaos again though, so the kids clothes went into the washer. Oops. We've now been home for four days. One load is not going to cut it. Put all the fleece sleepers in first, then add kids' clothes until the washer threatens to go on strike. Two loads ought to do it.

Sunday afternoon: I now have three loads of laundry dried, not folded. One load in the dryer, one load in the washer. The hamper in the master bedroom is threatening to spew shirts and towels all over our room if I don't do something. Rob has to go to work tomorrow. I make sure he has clean jeans and socks so he doesn't wake me up at five a.m. wondering where all his clothing is. His jeans are still in the dryer - but they're clean.

MONDAY: Here I sit, writing a blog post for Tuesday. The laundry taunts me. One more load of kids' clothes and one load of bedsheets have not even seen the inside of the washer. Three loads on the couch, one in the washer, one in the dryer. My husband is sitting in the living room, completely unaware of the crisis that is about to befall him.

And this, dear readers, is why my husband has no underwear.