The Quandary of Laundry

Here's the deal. I don't enjoy folding laundry. In my home there is an everlasting load of laundry that sits next to my side of the bed. It just sits there bored out of its mind.

I am a nanny part time. Everyday I go to work I fold and put away laundry. I do with task without complaint. I do it efficiently. I am focused.

At home it's different. I stare at it a lot. Even as I type, it's looking back at me. Glaring at me, really. Yet, I would rather blog about not folding the laundry during which time I could be mundanely folding the stinkin' clothes. But who wants to do that? Let's face it, I am no Martha Stewart. I'll cook and do what I call mild cleaning. For example, I don't enjoy getting too involved with dusting.

On the dusting note. I remember when Penélope was born my mother came to stay with us for a few weeks. One day, my mom started cleaning which in her routine inevitably leads to dusting. This is not the most obvious line of thinking for me. Dusting will get done when I can no longer remember the color of any given surface. Well, Christopher was AMAZED at what my mom was doing, like it was a rare forgotten art form or something.

So back to laundry. I think I have figured out why I'm such a better homemaker at work.

1. At work there is a tangible incentive: a paycheck. Doing just about anything with a monetary reward in mind makes me a much nicer person. Well, maybe not anything but certainly laundry.

2. Although at work there is a reward, there is, also, a threat to losing the reward: getting fired. I'm not dumb enough to let the laundry pile up day after day because I realize my job would at risk.

Let's face it, at home there is no such thing. I don't get paid. And if I don't fold the clothes is Christopher or Penélope going to fire me? I don't think so.

I guess until they invent a closet that sanitizes clothes or something, I'll keep my little method going. Laundry and I will continue our staring matches, I'll keep watching Chris retrieve coveted pieces of clothing from the basket from time to time and every night, I'll cozy up to the laundry basket. Dear Laundry, I'm sure, will always have hope for tomorrow.