This is news to me.
I feel accomplished when laundry has been washed, dried and sitting in baskets in my hallway. It feels done. It is done. It’s clean and ready to be worn.
It may sit there for a couple of days before it gets separated into individual piles for each kid to put away. But like I said, it’s clean and ready to be worn. Those household tip people don’t know what they’re talking about.
Usually, I get motivated to separate it when I need the baskets to carry more dirty clothes to the basement.
Then the piles sit in the hallway for another day or two before they get picked up by kids and put away.
The piles of clothes tucked up against the walls in the hallway seem to attract other things to the hall floor. Dirty clothes that got plopped there because some child needed to change into dress up clothes or a leotard to play gymnastics. A random doll house person that didn’t make it into the doll bin.
Things that seem to have no home sit on top of the stairs waiting…like fabric. I’ve had a thing of folded blue fabric with white polka dots sitting at the top of my stairs – all summer.
It has no home, so it looks official sitting there… waiting.
When I see tufts of dog hair on the rug – it’s time to vacuum. So orders are given – actually bellowed – to get the hallway picked up.
“Everyone put your clothes away – folded neatly in your drawer, not stuffed in there!” I have been saying that for nearly twenty years to all the children who have grown up here …neatly in drawers, not stuffed. I have a fetish about clothes being crammed into drawers.
“We’re gonna keep this hallway clean – I don’t want stuff on the floor anymore! It looks like slobs live here!” I’ve been saying that for twenty years, too.
The old Kirby is hauled upstairs and I begin vacuuming, taking care not to run over the extension cord. This extension cord runs from one of the bedrooms into the bathroom because the one and only outlet in that bedroom doesn’t work.
The cord fits well underneath the bathroom door – that doesn’t close completely anyway. The only way to keep the door shut is with the little hook and eye latch.
I don’t notice quirks like this in my home anymore until something like the former Governor comes over and his staff asks if the Governor can use the bathroom when he arrives. Ummm…. suddenly that extension cord and eyehook latch cry out to me.
I do the gymnastics necessary to vacuum under the cord. Then, of course, I vacuum around the folded fabric on the top of the stairs.
The hallway is clear and clean – except for the blue, polka dot fabric – but that doesn’t count because it’s officially there…waiting for a home.
It’s gonna stay this way, I say.
The next morning I bring up a basket or two of clean laundry…
Such is life.