Once upon a time, in a period of my life when the most protected, coveted, dreamed about, if-you-ring-my-doorbell-please-be-prepared-to-explain-why-I-should-not-cut-you-out-of-my-life-forEVER hour of my day was . . . NapTime . . . I remember having a strange and baffling conversation with another young mother.
Our boys had played together for the entire morning, and in typical boy fashion had completely worn themselves out. My own 2yo was asleep before I left her driveway and didn’t wake up until the day was almost over.
A few days later, as a classic Young Mommy Conversation Starter, I asked if her son had also slept the day away after the morning of fun.
Her response: “He was really tired, but didn’t sleep long because he woke up when I went into his room to put laundry away.”
Who, in her right mind, would EVER risk that precious naptime for laundry.
I’ve thought of that conversation a few times and until today, never had the slightest teensy-tiniest bit of comprehension about why any sane mother would do that.
Today, as I was folding clothes right out of the dryer . . . I thought again of this conversation.
I think I get it now. Sort of.
See, I finally understand that the key to keeping Laundry Day from becoming Laundry Week is folding clothes straight out of the dryer and putting them away immediately.
I know this. But it is still sooooo hard to do.
Hard to do when I don’t have a single excuse. I can’t even imagine not using the classic and so-logical-it-hurts excuse that I can’t open the bedroom door and break the sacred silence of a toddler’s naptime.
Sweet lady, but I’m thinking she might be on the other side of normal from me.