O! Mountain of cleansed things!
How you mock me from the basket,
and the floor, and other there,
and on my bed.
How you mock me from the basket,
and the floor, and other there,
and on my bed.
You are a pestilence before whom I fold,
a scourge without scale.
I weep and bow down, helplessly watching
the Clean But Unfolded ossify
into skeletons in my laundry room.
Note: Early on, I fooled my husband into thinking I was a folder. I used to go to the laundromat, and I folded it all before I brought it home. As soon as we were able to have a washer and dryer, this never happened again. Fortunately, folded laundry was not my sole appeal.
Also Note: Ahhhh! I missed midnight! As a piece of advice, it’s a terrible idea to go to a car lot at 6:30 PM and start the car buying process. This would seem like common sense, but I am an uncommon person. *yawn*
The name “Mt. Clothesmore” is inspired. As in “more clothes” but sounds like Rushmore…?
Okay, I need more coffee.
You got it! I wanted to give my giant pile of wrinkles more … Nobility. 🙂
You’re still talking about the clothes…right? *rimshot
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