Fail File: Attack of Mt. Washmore

.
Last week, I introduced the Fail File. (If you missed last week’s post, you can find it here.)  Basically, these posts are where I show you parts of my life that are unacceptable and embarrassing, then you judge and mock me.  Good times.
.
This week, I’m airing the dirty laundry.  Literally.
.
B and I have an egalitarian marriage, which means we split most everything 50/50.  We are co-parents.  We are equal earners.  We split the housework.
.
Dividing up chores between partners is not easy.  After all, it does no one any good to do half the dishes or to vacuum half the house.  So when divvying up the housework, we decided to play to our strengths. B is great at tasks that have to be done every single day; he owns cleaning dishes in our house.  B loads/unloads the dishwasher, washes pots and pans, you name it.  I rarely touch a dish.
.
We established early on (here) that I am B’s opposite in nearly every way.  Having to do the same chore every day is a mind numbing prospect for me.  (This is the part where you get to judge me!  Hooray!)  I’m just wired differently, I guess.  I am better at doing larger tasks, less often.   The chore that plays to this strength is the family’s laundry.  It piles up throughout the week in three different drop zones: the kids’ bathroom, our bathroom closet, and the laundry room.
.
The funny thing?  We both think the OTHER one got the short end of the chore stick.  And that, friends, is what we call a win-win!
..
On Friday night, I collect the laundry from our three different disaster areas hampers and dump it all on our dining room floor.  Our dining room is not small but the laundry completely consumes it.  We even pushed our dining room table to the wall to make more room (we never eat in there and it frees up precious playing/puzzle/reading/sitting-on-the-floor/laundry-sorting space).
.
This was taken in the fall, when Peanut was
asking to jump in the leaves.  Who needs leaf piles
when you have laundry??
.
.
Added bonus: laundry is a much softer landing.
.
.
The laundry gets sorted and the cycle begins. Wash, dry, fold on the dining room table.  Let me take a moment to say this; when we purchased our dining room set years ago, I never imagined that:
a)    we would remove nearly all of the chairs from the dining room to make more space for tinker toys  and the like, or
b)    the table itself would be pushed to the side wall, or
c)    the table would be used daily but not for sharing meals, family time, or any other Normal Rockwell-esque moments.
.
.

The only ‘spread’ on my dining room table
is an expanse of brights and whites.

No turkey dinners, no rousing games of pinochle or bridge.  No, our dining room table is used almost exclusively as a staging area for folding laundry. Glamorous, right?

.
Even better is that the laundry rarely gets put away by Sunday night.  The dining room table then becomes what I like to call our ‘laundry display area.’  On any given evening, visitors can see our clean, folded laundry and marvel at our love of name brands like Target and Kohl’s.
.
This is mid week, after ½ of the laundry has
been put away or worn again.
.
.
The view from our front door that yells,
“Welcome, neighbors!  Please peruse
our under garments!”
.
The most fantastic of all the piles must be the towels/sheets pile.  Linens aren’t dining-table-worthy in our house.  This is really because the sheer volume of towels and linens would leave no room for any other laundry on the staging area.
.
With all these towels, you’d think that we bathe 8 times a day OR that we use a new towel each time we bathe.  I promise you neither is true.  I have no idea how the towels make their way to the laundry drop zones.  But they do, without fail.
.
I show you this picture to make you feel better
about YOUR laundry situation.  You’re welcome.
.
I make myself feel better by justifying that the laundry is at least clean while it’s on display.  And that if the worst clutter I have in my house is folded laundry, I’m probably doing ok.
.
But then the doorbell rings and I have that awful moment of panic.
.
Do I hide behind my stacks of shame?
.
Or do I open the door and put the family’s delicates on display?
.

.

It’s a laundry debacle right behind that door.

.

The good news is that the laundry does get put away.  The bad news is that it’s usually the following Friday, when I start sorting the next week’s wash.  Sigh.
Norman Rockwell Source
Cartoon Source

————————————————————————————————————————————————-

If you are enjoying The Woven Moments, I hope you’ll take a moment to follow on Facebook or Twitter (@girlry).  I also love sending you new posts by RSS!

————————————————————————————————————————————————-