Dear Auntie Moonbeam
I hope you’ll forgive a photo-free Friday post in lieu of a short essay on something I am passionate about. Or more accurately; something I passionately don’t care about.
Before I get started it must be noted that my mother neither acknowledges nor approves this post. She wants me to tell the fine people of the Internet that she raised me better than this. And she did. Kudos to you Mom!
There are many things I take pride in:
I can quote Anchorman and Star Wars line for line. It’s like my Shakespeare.
On the subway I very rarely lose my balance and I never hold onto anything. If subway surfing ever becomes an Olympic sport I think I’d have a decent shot at the podium. I’m just sayin’…
I can make an awesome helicopter noise with my tongue. Frankly, I think my son should be a bit more impressed with that last one than he currently is. But instead he choses to focus his attention on my inability to find Spider-man’s phone number. Kids are weird.
One thing I take absolutely no pride in is my laundry skills (or lack thereof). The way I see it no one person can be good at all things. Something’s gotta give. For me that’s laundry.
By the way – before I detail the myriad of ways in which to suck at laundry – if you want actual proper tips check out this blog. The writer does a great job dispensing tips aimed at apartment laundry users.
Don’t sort colours and don’t read labels.
Seriously, why? I’m not a symbolist and I resent the effort of consulting charts to wash clothes. Besides, all those little inscrutable triangles, dots and squares are just annoying.
Don’t unravel socks or turn anything right side out.
My attitude is whatever shape it’s in when it hits the bin is how it’s getting washed. Besides don’t soap and water penetrate by osmosis or something? Sure, we’ll go with that.
Shove laundry into the machine in one big lump.
No placing items carefully or individually. That’s for suckers. Upend the bag and dump. It’s satisfying and time efficient.
When the washer is done pull laundry out in wet clobbed together masses and jam them into the dryer. Pause only to throw wadded up socks across the room into the open maw of the dryer. For every perfectly thrown pitch have a mini in-your-head celebration (alternatively if no one else is in the laundry room raise your arms over your head and proclaim “Booyah!”)
When laundry emerges clean, dry and beautifully fragrant, immediately leave it to sit ignored and unsorted in your living room for approximately 3-4 days.
This post is dedicated to everyone who’s ever read a blog post about someone else’s general awesomeness and felt defeated or depressed.
Listen, we’re not all gonna whip up homemade organic quinoa & kale smoothies for dinner. Not everyone can use a hot glue gun to make a Pottery Barn knock off wreath. Even fewer of us can pull together the cutest outfit with perfect accessories. I certainly can’t do any of those things. And I’d like to take this chance to tell one and large that while I can make many other pretty things, I flat-out suck at laundry.
There, doesn’t that feel good to know?
Cheers & a happy weekend to all!