Is “without rhyme or reason” a Texas saying or an everywhere saying?
I would like to announce to the world that EVEN THOUGH I traveled an hour to a speaking engagement yesterday, shopped for uniform pants for the boy who woke up on our first cold morning having outgrown all warm clothing, and didn’t even have time to write a blog post . . . Laundry Day . . . . happened.
It’s Tuesday morning, and there is one measly load of white towels waiting to go into the washing machine.
Uniform shirts and shorts and skirts?
They’re clean and in drawers or closets.
I’m not saying the clothes currently drying or waiting to dry are guaranteed to make it smoothly into their drawers (declaring what I’m “gonna” do rarely works well for me), but even if we lived out of the dryer and re-washed the jeans/dark-towels that are currently in the washing machine next Monday . . . no one would be naked for a whole ‘nother seven days of our existence.
There’s rhyme. Rhythm. A flow to things. I wash, fold, and put away clothes on Monday. All of them.
We wear clothes every single day (really) and by the next Monday I need to wash them again.
There’s reason. We like clean clothes. (Actually, my kids don’t care, but I pretend they will someday.) If I can get it all done on Monday(ish), I get to completely ignore my Laundry Room for the next six (or five) days.
I know. I’m blathering. And I didn’t even write a post yesterday so it’s kind of horrible to open the week like this.
But it’s true. I know for a fact that a week like this one (speaking on Monday, MIL-sitting on Wednesday, school fundraiser volunteering on Friday) would have once had us digging through the Donate Box for highwater pants that might button if we rigged them with a rubber band.
Instead, I begrudgingly matched socks and put school shirts on hangers in between school pick-up and dinner and Duck Dynasty.
It wasn’t fun, but it was Monday. And now, on Tuesday . . . I’m so glad.