Laundry Dregs

OK, I am, as my dad puts it, a "strange agent" in more ways than one. However, one of my oddest quirks is that I actually enjoy folding laundry. I like pulling hot, still pliable and fluffy clothing out of the dryer and folding them crisply. I don't enjoy nearly as much folding laundry that has cooled and become stiff and hard to manage. And I absolutely deplore laundry dregs.

Laundry dregs are the pieces of laundry too small to warrant actual folding which fall to the bottom of every laundry basket in our house: bibs, socks (particularly unmatched socks), washcloths, hankies, undies for tiny people aka kids. It seems I am not the only one who hates laundry dregs. They seem to collect in laundry baskets. The worst situation ever is when all the laundry dregs from all the laundry baskets get dumped into one basket (usually on laundry Saturday) and then there is a full basket of JUST dregs to contend with. UGH. Need I say more?

I just waded through four baskets of laundry today. I folded most everything, unfortunately it was all cold laundry, but I got over that when I realized it was preferable to staying up all night pacing beside the dryer. There is a quarter basket of laundry dregs staring at me, showdown style right now from the other side of the room. It's as if it knows and is taunting me, "you were NOT supposed to get on that computer until ALL the laundry was DONE, Young Lady."

And here I lay on my bed with my laptop, the petulant laundress, thumbing my nose at the laundry dregs. Until tomorrow, my friend. A demain.