Laundry and My Little Leech

Laundry. UGH. 'Nuff said. Well, maybe not quite enough. Do you ever get the feeling that there is some conspiracy out there determined to make laundry something that never gets done?? Well, I do. I spend some time every single day of my life doing laundry and it's always there; an ever present presence just looming out there; beckoning me. I believe that if I were to have a clean, uncluttered laundry room, I would have to be in there every moment of my day, every day. Somehow, my mom has laundry mastered down to a fine art. Even when I was a kid, laundry day was reserved to Saturday. She did it all on Saturday and never had to worry about it the rest of the week. And somehow, in the meantime, the laundry room didn't fill up. How did she do it? Where did all that laundry go during the week that magically appeared on designated laundry day? I don't get it. I have yet to figure it out. There have been a couple of rare occasions where I have gotten my laundry down to about two loads. It was cause for rejoicing. But within a few short hours, mysterious items of clothing began to appear again. It would seem as though my family members are changing upwards of five times a day, but I know they aren't. So, where does it all come from? It will forever remain a mystery. Thankfully, my laundry room door shuts so that I don't have to look at the ridiculous amounts of clothes sitting in there all day, but then when I do walk in there, I get treated with the lovely aroma of dirty socks coupled with the humidity that accumulates in there from the washer going and being trapped in there with the door shut. WHEW! Lovely. Well, now 'nuff said I guess.

I have a little leech, and her name is Fiesty. I love my little leech; I do. But she is a leech. Care Bear has always been very independent. She likes to know where I am, but once she knows, she is fine to go off on her own and do her thing. Fiesty lasts for about five minutes on her own. Once I think I have her occupied in an activity, I rush off to find whatever chore I can do while occupied. Dishes, vacuuming, aforementioned laundry. But within minutes, I hear the pitter patter of her little fit off on the search. Once she finds me, it's over. There's clinging onto legs, pulling down of the pants while she grips onto them (mine) for dear life, and moans of "MOMMMMMY" as though her lifeline has been taken away from her. Whether it's chores, going to the bathroom (potty time isn't even sacred for me), changing clothes or even watching TV, my little leach must be right there. Walking out of the room is cause for a mini panic attack for her. I don't know if this is because I breast fed her (Care Bear was bottle fed), or if this is just part of her personality. She is so attached. I love that she's attached to me, but let me tell you how fun it is to try to do dishes with someone attached to the lower part of your body. I've learned to do dishes leaning over the sink with my butt extending halfway into the kitchen. In Fiesty's defense, she does love to help. At least I have that. Chores take twice as long as they should if I were doing them by myself, but she is my little helper girl. I love my leech!!