Well, maybe it’s a dysfunctional clean secret.
The thing is my family is forced to live out of laundry baskets. Not for sleeping or eating, of course, but for the purpose of temporarily housing clean clothes. The practice of sifting through perfectly folded items of apparel in cleverly arranged chest of drawers is an alien concept to my family -- to find something to wear, they must all “fish for fleece” as the saying goes in our household. Folding laundry and putting it away (on a semi regular basis) is really unheard of around here. I mean, for criminy sake, they’re only going to get it all dirty and then I have to wash/dry everything all over again. What’s the point of that! Folding and putting away laundry is the most pointless waste of energy I can think of (well besides mopping floors and weeding garden beds – but that’s a disclosure I’ll save for another post).
So if I had a million dollars …
… I’d hire a friendly Ecuadorian laundress who’s happily supporting a humongous family back in
… I’d locate a professional organizer who could put my mess of a house into some semblance of order (especially my overstuffed and neglected dresser drawers, closets, attic and basement spaces).
… I’d donate heavily to my local thrift store, because if it weren’t for them, I would have despaired of disposer’s [AKA polluter’s] guilt a long time ago.
Even though this particular housekeeping practice may be rather dubious to most folks, I had to pick a system that made the most sense to my family -- even though it occasionally drives me crazy.
