You do a buttload of laundry every week. I know you do because I do too.
My kids think nothing of tossing clean, albeit wrinkled laundry, into the dirty clothes hamper when they’re just too lazy to put their laundered, fluffed, and folded clothes away. And while both kids produce a criminal amount of laundry, my tween Boy Wonder takes the detergent soap cake. His body’s like… changing. He smells smelly a lot of the time and is suddenly so awkward that he spills a lot. I dunno what’s up with all that, but hot damn, this kid produces a lot of dirty clothes.
The way I feel about it is this: I’m a girl. If you’re producing laundry at an alarming rate exponential to my own, you’re going to need to help me out. There’s simply a limit to the amount of laundry one woman should be responsible for, and you guessed it–I’ve reached mine.
I decided that there was really no good reason that Boy Wonder couldn’t help me out with a load or two of laundry when the hampers be overflowing. I guess you could say that I’m willing to risk life, limb, and pink underwear to teach him how to launder like a pro.
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