I was a very young, inexperienced wife and mother of two boys. And yes, I was still under the delusion that (at all times) I could be a perfect wife and mother to my three guys. I was sitting on the floor sorting through the white clothes and grumbling to myself about the fact that I had to sit there and turn all the yucky, smelly, dirty socks, underwear and t-shirts right side out before throwing them into the washing machine.
As I sat there, frustrated, I decided to entertain myself by timing how long it took me to turn a pair of socks right side out…then I multiplied that times the number of days a week that I did laundry…then the number of weeks in a year. Of course I ended up with an enormous amount of hours – hours of time “wasted”, each year of my life, just to turn dirty laundry right side out again.
The more I thought about it, the more I complained (okay, whined) to myself. I’m not proud of this, but I began to think about the fact that no one really cared that I went to this trouble…that I was not appreciated. Yeah, I began to feel generally sorry for myself…
Then it hit me…
I was right–the guys in my household didn’t care diddly about the fact that I did this tiresome chore. In fact, they just willy-nilly pulled off their clothes and tossed them into the hamper with no further thought about what would happen after that, right? I mean – these are guys we’re discussing here (sorry men if this offends you, I don’t mean it that way – it’s just that, well…guys are just guys) but I digress…so, I decided, if these guys could complete this act with such wild abandon, with no care about the outcome, just why did I think it was so important?
I mean, really!
Right then and there, I decided, “no more”.
I gathered up the dirty whites, just as they had been deposited–turned inside out, twisted like pretzels, wadded into balls, and every other fashion you can imagine, and plopped them into the washer. To my surprise they came out clean. So into the dryer they went (still wrong side out) and then I folded them (Still wrong side out) and laid them out for the guys to put away.
And you know what?
NO ONE said a thing!
Not one guy complained about their clothes being wrong side out. No one mentioned it at all. They seemed perfectly content to receive their clean clothes just as they were.
That valuable lesson, many years ago, has served me well. I save the big, important stuff to stress about–I mean, there is plenty of it around–but life is just too short to worry about wrong-side-out socks.
And the truly amazing thing is that I never once caught one of my guys wearing their clean clothes still wrong side out. Miracles – they do happen.
What’s your favorite Laundry story? I’d love to hear it!!