I’m the Laundry-Slayer….Not a Guitar-Player

I took quite a bit of time off from this blog, huh? I won’t bore you with the “busyness” of my life. We all have that. I hate how people associate your busyness with how great a
(fill in the blank) you are. It only means that you let shit build up and then all the cool stuff that you want to do is Overtaken By Events (OBE.)

So, my blogging, sewing, organizing my office, learning how to farm at the local hippies off-grid farming commune, working out, mustering parents to commit to more volunteer time at the high school, and painting my kitchen have ALL been OBE for some time now. Okay, not the working out thing. That’s just because I hate the process leading up to it and will easily find what I can do today in order to put that off until tomorrow….or next Wednesday…..or 2016. Whatever.

I have been doing a lot of volunteer work, though not as much as I’d like within all the fields I’d like. I have been reading once or twice a week to some of the kids in the Alternate Curriculum at the high school. I enjoy it. Mostly, they do, too. True, I’m reading to teenagers so we do run into attitude every now and then. But I’m always met with smiles when I show up and the kids who haven’t been bored to sleep by the sound of my melodious (read: Monotonous) voice, laugh at the appropriate parts and gasp at the shocking parts. After the class has had a book read to them, they watch a video based on the same book and then compare and contrast the two. It’s pretty neat. And they’ve covered a lot of interesting books.

Last Thursday, I skipped reading though. I texted my freind, Cindy (the AC teacher I read
for) and told her that I had something that had come up that I needed to deal with. I didn’t know how to tell her that it was the Laundry Monster. It reared its ugly head and blocked access to the deep freezer that we keep in the laundry room. I faked right and rolled left in an attempt to push through to get a package of chicken out to thaw it for dinner. Laundry Monster roared and slapped me back with a mildewed towel wrapped around a pair of petrified jeans. I beat it down with a broom handle but it snapped my broom handle in half after whipping a crispy sheet around it and jerking it backwards. I took a flying leap over the dryer while shrieking out my Ninja-Mom war cry and stuffed the empty laundry basket over its daunting head. I quickly switched the water control knob to EXTRA LARGE WHITES LOAD and flipped it to HOT! Once I dumped the detergent in, that Laundry Monster could see I meant business. I grabbed the smelly, wet towels and dropped them in, and then slammed the lid shut. It continued to rally most of the day.   Load by load, episode after episode of Gilmore Girls on Netflix while I folded and put away, Laundry Monster weakened. Finally, in a futile attempt to throw me off course with a vomitrocious pair of stained underpants and 5 mate-less crusty sweat socks wreaking of boy feet and onions, I swooped the last of the whites into the washing machine. Rocky’s victory song played on the radio and I grabbed for the freezer door and jogged my lap around the kitchen with frozen chicken thighs held high overhead like a World Heavyweight Championship belt won via TKO.

Then all the kids came home from school and everyone started showering and changing clothes again so it was kind of a wasted fucking day. But you know. For about an hour and a half, I’d slayed the Laundry Monster.

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