Monday, August 31, 2009
I am sitting in the hallway outside my laundry room surrounded by what can only be described as a sea of dirty clothes. I am sorting. And sorting. And sorting. I admit, it has been a few days since I have done laundry. Not many, just a few. A minute ago I started a load in the washer and I can hear it going through its different phases in the room behind me. As I continue to sort, and the washing machine continues through its cycle, I think to myself that the washer might beat me to the punch here and finish washing that load before I finish all the sorting. I call over to Jason, exasperated, "You know, there is something wrong in the world when the washing machine washes a whole load faster than I can sort all the rest of this laundry!" Without missing one single beat and totally nonchalantly he replies, "Is there something wrong with the washer or is there something wrong with you?" "Ha! You just earned yourself a date with my blog for that one!" And I go back to sorting.