Saturday, February 16, 2008
The "L" Fairy
I'm trapped, a prisoner in my own home. And I have chosen this fate for myself because I have a secret identity....I am the laundry fairy. (insert dramatic music here)
Have you ever gone into your dresser drawers and found your favorite shirt is clean and smelling April Fresh? Have you opened your closet door and seen that your softest fleece shirt is neatly hung up instead of laying in a heap next to the bed? Have you ever wondered where the endless supply of clean socks and underwear seem to come from in your house? Chances are, you have a laundry fairy at home, too.
The "L" in our household is never ending. It is the bane of my existence. If I get the kids' clothes all done and put away, the husband seems to have mysteriously run out of clean shirts. Or uniforms. So I get the husband's clothes done, only to discover that I am completely out of clean maternity pants to wear (which isn't' really that hard to do, seeing that I only have 3 pants that fit at all!) So, it's back to the washing machine I go. Wash, dry, fold...or not fold, rather....because if I folded everything that came out of dryer, I would have NO LIFE! Rather, throw it all in the hallway and hope to God that another L Fairy will visit. But none other has stopped by our house since I became the CEO of this establishment. It's a daunting task, and the only thanks you get is the occasional pocket full of rocks or seashells(from the kids) or some loose change and ballpoint pens (Which I have been saving up for sometime now, to buy the laundry fairy a cruise and a notebook to use her saved up pens on writing her adventures !)
Oh dear. There is that dreaded buzzer again. The one that says that duty calls....time for me to dawn my wings and fold those clothes. Surely....when I get to Heaven...clothes will either never get dirty, smelly, sweaty, or stinky. I will pass into the pearly gates and God will tell me "Well done, thou good and faithful Laundry Fairy!" and reward me with my own Laundress. Right now, I'm in the depths of laundry hell.