“Dad! Dad! There’s a noise! We heard a noise upstairs!”
The twins, bright eyed and animated as ever came running into the kitchen. They clutched my legs, trembling.
“What do you think it was?”
(I knew exactly what it was. I had overloaded the washing machine—again—and as it tried to start it’s spin cycle began to shake pretty strongly.)
Most states have Good Samaritan Laws designed to protect health care workers who provide assistance to people in need of medical care outside of a hospital setting. You know, guy falls in the supermarket because he’s choking on the grapes he couldn’t wait to pay for and you stomp on his stomach–Ala the Safetylich. That’s my term for Heimlich at a distance. It’s a hands off approach lending aide–you can’t be too safe, right? I mean if a guy’s gonna eat half a bag of grapes in the grocery store before he pays for them who knows where he’s been.
So, anyway, I was just wondering if we should maybe extend the Good Samaritan Laws to include acts perpetrated by well-meaning children. Acts by children who should know better but want to help in whatever manner. Usually, said help invariably ends up detriment and rather than praise the child reaps rebuke.
My case in point. A few days ago we had made a run to the store for a few essentials one of them being laundry detergent. When we arrived home, I asked Zoë to please bring the fresh supplies upstairs to the laundry room. I went about the task of preparing our lunch not giving the matter another thought. Before long, I heard water running and in a panic rushed upstairs to see what the twins had gotten into. I’ve had my issues with the twins and water upstairs before so I’m sure you can understand.
The twins were fine, playing on the floor. Dry! I then set about to determine the source of the running water and quickly found out that is was the washing machine. Zoë and Zane had taken it upon themselves to lend a bit of assistance with the laundry. And this is what is left of the brand new bottle of fabric softener.
The bottle Zoë had brought upstairs just one hour ago. I normally purchase the largest bottle available as we do a lot of laundry. This particular bottle tauts a whopping 78 loads. Seventy eight loads!!! 
She used almost half of the bottle!! And what did she wash with almost one half a bottle of fabric softener, you may be curious to know. I’ll tell you. Two towels and a pair of shorts.
I was so out of sorts at finding our brand new bottle of fabric softener half gone that I hadn’t even realized that the dryer was running. Zane had noticed that there were a few items in the washer and took it upon himself to toss them in the dryer. Not all of them, mind you as there was a 3/4 full laundry basket of wet clothes on the floor—in front of the dryer.
So I opened the dryer to see exactly what we were drying in found six t-shirts (just six) and these–
. Just in case you can’t tell, that’s what 21 (twenty one) dryer sheets look like all spread out on top of the dryer. Yeah, he was drying six t-shirts with 21 dryer sheets.
I’ve got some of the softest clothes in all of America’s Heartland!
I have spent the better part of this morning begrudgingly sorting through and folding the mounds–literally mounds–of clean laundry. I readily admit that folding and putting away said folded laundry is far down my list of things I enjoy doing each day. Truth be told, it’s not even on the list, unless that list would be the list of things I absolutely despise doing but I do anyway because it’s in the job description that I, like a fool, failed to read before signing up for this gig.
I came to a few realizations this morning, First, my wife was right (how many times you gonna hear that, Honey?). My obsession with kids wearing socks during the summer has got to stop. I despise folding the whitewash and socks just add to that pile. The kids don’t keep a pair of socks on for a full day anyway. If they do make it through the day, they are so full of dirt and grime that there is not a washer or detergent made that will ever sufficiently clean them. And lastly, the ones that actually do make it to the laundry basket are never matched. I’ve got a basket of singles that is literally overflowing. Must be over 40 socks in there and not a single one matches another. Here’s to summer sandals!
Next. What exactly is “like-colors”? I’ve got a couple shirts with no fewer than seven different colors in them and the washing instructions indicate that I should wash them with like-colors. The one time I was able to produce two similar shirts in the same laundry load one wanted warm water with like colors the other wanted cold. There’s no way! I’m not about to set aside an entire load for a single shirt. And before you get any ideas–I’m not going to hand wash it either. I took my chances–they got cold. (I now have two very similar shirts with no fewer than 3 different colors.)
Here’s another thing. Exposing a folded garment in a dresser drawer to the ambient air in the room does not make that garment dirty and in need of a wash! In the folding today were three long sleeve t-shirts and two sweaters. Sweaters!!! It’s the middle of July. We haven’t worn sweaters around here for months. So why does it end up in the laundry? Jeez. If you take it out of the drawer and decide not to wear it, fold it back up and put it back in the drawer!
Good Lord! I’ve just ranted about laundry. Again! I feel I may need to go outside and do something a little bit more dude like, manly, testosterone fueled! You know, to re-validate the man card. I saw some weeds in my rose bushes. Maybe I’ll go tackle those pesky little boogers!
