Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Wash It Out

Let's be clear about one thing:

I don't do laundry.

I mean, I'm capable of doing laundry, lest you imagine that for the last few years I've just been wearing really dirty clothes. This is not the case. I have also not simply been wearing things and then tossing them out. That would be wasteful and weird.

I can do laundry.

But The Fella does it.

There are multiple reasons for this. One is that the laundry room in our building is a bit of a hike, and I have a bum shoulder. He doesn't mind carrying the laundry around, and, honestly, I don't mind letting him. (I do other stuff instead of laundry. Like cooking and meal planning. I'm all over it. I also love to clean.)

Another reason he does the laundry is that he's just plain better at it. He separates things as he throws them into the machines. He's better at sorting.

I don't sort.

I get that you're supposed to sort? I've had more than one friend gasp in horror at the sight of my laundry pile, where the delicates are all mixed in with whatever you call the opposite of a delicate (a bruiser? Do I have clothing that qualifies for bruiser status?), the whites are cozied up with the darks, and the towels and shirts are all chummy.

"You're ... gonna separate that, right?"

"Nope!" I said cheerfully, and dumped it all in the washer. My friends inevitably look at me as though I've bitten the head off a bat and screamed "ANARCHY!"

My theory is that the stuff will survive, or it won't. If something is labeled dry clean only, either I don't purchase it in the first place or I play Casino Laundry (aka, go ahead and gamble! It's going to be great or it's going to be a disaster). I have to pay to wash this stuff, so it's going in as few loads as possible. I'm not messing around.

The strong survive.

This might be one of the reasons why the majority of my clothing is either black or grey. I'm not saying it is, but I'm also not saying it isn't. I'm just saying that there COULD be a connection.

The Fella does an outstanding job with the laundry. He hasn't ruined a single thing (unlike me, who may have destroyed a thing or two with my "good luck in there, clothes" process).

I help, though. Sort of.

I fold things. Warm, delightful smelling things that are freshly cleaned. I'm all about the clean laundry.

Just not, you know, washing it.

No comments:

Post a Comment