Tales from the Laundry Crypt

I have been waiting for 4 months to type this post.. and I am now thrilled to announce that I'm getting published! Okay, so it's just a local magazine being mailed out to Gilbert residents, but I'm still excited! Since most people who read my blog aren't from Gilbert, now that it's published I wanted to share my little article on my blog. The editor asked me to write another column for next month (I really hope I can be funny again!) so I'll keep you updated on that one as well! Yay! So here's my humor column:

TALES FROM THE LAUNDRY CRYPT

One recent morning, I was helping Curtis, my six year-old get ready for school. When I handed him a pair of socks to put on, he looked at them with delight and exclaimed, "Cool! Matching socks!" (Ah, such simple pleasures in life.) After I got over my chagrined amusement, I realized that the state of my laundry would definitely be scary enough to prompt such a statement. That's when it hit me -- MY LAUNDRY TELLS TALES! A light went on in my head and I had one of my famous “Aha! Duh,” moments. It finally hit me why they say, 'Airing your dirty laundry'! What better way to reach into the innermost chaos of a big, crazy family than to take a good hard look at what each kid in that family is wearing at any given moment.

Several years ago I was pregnant with Eli, my 6th child and in bed sick most of the time. In the morning the kids would come in to kiss me goodbye as they headed off for school. One time as they walked out, I noticed that Cody had on one ankle sock that had a suspiciously pink hue and one sock that went up well over his chubby, little knee and disappeared under his shorts, the heel hanging out in a strange bulge over the back of his shoe. I had to admire his creativity in the face of the large piles of dirty laundry everywhere, if not his fashion sense.

I’m sorry to say, even non-pregnant I don't seem to notice the sad state of what my children are wearing until my observant and helpful daughter Hannah points out to me that Jonah has worn the same shirt every day since...well, who knows when? (It's his official school uniform.) I guess I thought it was a different shirt because every day it had a new and interesting layer of dirt on it. Sometimes when I manage to do a load of wash that is FULL of dirty boy underwear, I wonder, with a fearful kind of shock how many months it’s been since I washed underwear, and even worse, what have the boys been wearing in the interim?! One time, Cody caught me throwing away old, holey socks from the defunct sock basket. He frantically rescued them from the garbage and cried in horror, “Mom! If you throw these away, where will I ever find socks to wear?” I hope no one turns me in after that revelation.

Curtis gets very creative with his clothing. Last month, for many days in a row, he wore the "Winter Clothes Box" ensembles, involving strange, little-used long-sleeved shirts with glow-in-the-dark skeletons and the like on them. They're usually 2 or 3 sizes too big and he finds them in boxes stored in the back of the closet. "Good for him for finding something clean!" I think, "Such persistence should be rewarded."

I figure I have one thing going for me in this whole sad situation. My kids have VERY low expectations as far as clean laundry goes. They don't hound me anymore about whether or not I got their scout shirt washed or if their favorite sweatshirt will ever get transferred from the washer to the dryer (they know that it will probably get re-washed 3 or 4 times before it makes the jump). They've learned the art of sifting through layers of "civilizations" to find their school spirit shirt or their other Sunday sock (and maybe one of them will become an archeologist when he grows up).

As for me, I'm thrilled with a compliment like "Cool! Matching socks!" It just shows me that if I were dependable, they'd never appreciate so much the happy smell of Downy on a towel or underwear that can't walk by themselves. All those other moms who get their laundry washed and folded and into their kid's drawers every day, just aren't appreciated like I am when I produce the Scooby Doo jammies clean again after being lost for 3 months. I love hearing their happy shouts of excitement at climbing into a bed with clean sheets twice a year. I only hope that their teachers can forgive me for the public airing of our dirty laundry – or at least ignore the smell.